


Make Me Feel Broken

by lev1107



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2085912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lev1107/pseuds/lev1107
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry made a mistake; One he doesn't know how to make better when it brings back past demons from his fiance, Louis. But that doesn't mean that he won't try. It takes a while, but eventually it seems that things are starting to get better again.</p>
<p>And then the text messages come. </p>
<p>WARNINGS: eating disorders, infidelity</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one in this fic. I make no profit and this is not, I sincerely hope, based on any true events.
> 
> The timeline is supposed to start sometime between their winter tour and goes to the beginning of this one. 
> 
> WARNING (again because I can't stress it enough): This fic delves into the mind of someone who suffers from eating disorders. (Mostly anorexia nervosa, but also some bulimia nervosa. Please DO NOT read if this will trigger something for you. Also, I'm always available to talk if need be.)

            Harry arrived at Nick Grimshaw’s party alone, guilty conscience in check. What kind of fiancé leaves his sick fiancé at home while he goes to party with one of his best mates? It _had_ been Louis that told Harry to go to the party after discovering that Harry had planned to stay home and take care of him. Louis was the one who told Harry that it was just a cold and that he was perfectly able to take care of himself.

            _“Go have fun,”_ he’d said. _“The longer you’re out of the house, the less likely you are to catch this anyway.”_

And so Harry had done as Louis had said and went to the party. He was pretty sure, however, that Louis hadn’t meant for him to go to the party, get trashed and have sex with Nick Grimshaw. Louis had never liked Nick in the first place and, after that night, Harry began to feel that there was a reason why.

            When it was all said and done, Harry felt a lot more sober than he thought he should. In fact, he felt hung-over already; sick and exhausted. Harry was smart enough to know that wasn’t entirely from the alcohol.

Nick left the room almost immediately once they had finished and Harry was glad. He lay in the guy’s bed, naked and alone, for two whole hours before dragging himself out to get dressed and head back to his loyal, unsuspecting fiancé.

When he arrived home, Louis was already asleep, curled in on himself on the couch, box of tissues fallen onto the floor. Taking a deep breath against the stab of guilt he felt, Harry gently lifted Louis into his arms and carried him upstairs to bed. The sleeping man barely shifted. Placing a hand softly on his fiancé’s forehead, Harry noted that he wasn’t too terribly hot, so he decided to let him sleep instead of waking him to take more medicine. Louis needed his sleep and Harry needed time before he faced the man he’d just betrayed.

            He washed up quickly before laying down in bed, fully expecting to be kept awake all night by the guilt still consuming his mind and gut, but he was out in less than five minutes.

The next morning, Harry was pulled from his slumber by incessant coughing. He squeezed his eyes shut, not ready to be in the land of the living quite yet before he realized that, hello, the coughing was coming from Louis and it wasn’t stopping.

            “Babe?” Harry slurred sleepily, sitting up quickly and ignoring the pain that shot through his head. Louis was unable to answer, face red and eyes watery as he gasped for breath before sending himself into another coughing fit. Throwing himself out of bed, Harry ran downstairs, grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge and took it to his fiancé, who sipped it and then chugged. Harry kept his eyes on him, worriedly watching him catch his breath, though his mind was on last night and whether he should tell Louis. He probably shouldn’t. It probably didn’t even happen, right? It was just a dream…a nightmare. He would never do that to Louis.

            Harry tried to convince himself of all these things, but knew they were lies.

            Belatedly, Harry noticed that Louis had composed himself and spoken, and was now staring at him, waiting for him to say something.

            “Sorry, what?” Harry asked, heat rising on the back of his neck. _You are a shit fiancé, Styles._

“I said sorry for waking you,” Louis said, apparently for the second time, voice rough from the strain it had been through the past couple of days.

            “No, it’s okay. You don’t need to apologize,” Harry said, stroking the back of Louis’ soft, if clammy, hand with his thumb, though the innocent touch just made him feel more guilty. “So I guess you’re not feeling better then?”

            “No, I am. My throat is just really dry.”

            Leaning closer, Harry pecked Louis on the cheek. “I’m going to take your temperature and then make you some tea. Are you hungry?”

            “Kind of, yeah.”

            “Omelet sound good?”

            “Sounds perfect.”

            Padding first to the bathroom, Harry grabbed the thermometer and took it back to Louis. The fever was almost gone, but not completely, so he brought his medicine up with his breakfast and curled next to Louis as he ate.

            “Where’s your food?” Louis asked only after he was half done with own.

            “I’m probably going to fall back to sleep,” Harry said. “I’ll eat when I wake up.”

            He didn’t do either, though. While his mind had taken pity last night and let him get some rest, it was not as kind that morning. He hadn’t thought he could feel any worse than he had the previous night, but he was wrong. He’d _cheated_ on Louis. His Louis. The guy he’d been with for three years. The first and only person he’d ever fallen in love with. The man he was ready to spend his life with, and who was always there for him no matter what. He’d gone out while his beautiful, amazing fiancé was curled on the couch, coughing and fevered, watching _Breaking Bad_ episodes on Netflix, and he’d gone to bed with someone else. The thought of being with anyone other than Louis in any way had never crossed Harry’s mind since the day they met, and as much as he tried to make up an excuse for what he did, there wasn’t one. He was just a terrible, horrible fiancé.          

            Thinking Harry had fallen back to sleep, Louis was quiet getting out of bed. Harry heard the tiny clink of dishes as Louis carried them downstairs and then heard nothing else. Louis was apparently not coming back to bed, so Harry let a couple of his hot tears escape from behind his closed eyes, though he didn’t let them last long. He didn’t deserve to cry.

            After an hour or so, the singer began to get restless so he finally gave up on catching anymore sleep and got into the shower. He turned the temperature all the way up, turning his skin bright red, but he still felt filthy.

He felt sick when he walked out of the bathroom, from the too-hot shower but mostly from himself, and he was spared from having to force food down his throat when he found Louis on the couch, knocked out from cold medicine. Harry curled next to him, wrapping the smaller guy tight in his arms and kissing the top of his head, apologizing silently and profusely and hoping Louis somehow felt it.

 

            Harry used Louis’ illness as an excuse to not tell him about the party for the next few days, but then Louis got better and Harry had to admit to himself that he was just a coward. He wasn’t being _totally_ selfish though. He honestly had no idea whether telling Louis was the right thing to do or not. It was bound to break his heart, maybe beyond repair. Was losing a loving relationship worth Harry coming clean? He didn’t think so. Because he _did_ love Louis, more than anything. They had some issues-what couple didn’t?-but they loved each other enough to pull through each and every one of them and come out stronger than before. Sure, they’d hurt each other; said things they didn’t mean and instantly regretted, but it hadn’t been anything a little apology and some TLC couldn’t fix. Harry didn’t feel that would be the case this time. Hurting Louis was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Besides, what happened with Nick meant nothing and was never going to happen again, so Louis didn’t really _need_ to know.

            It sounded good to keep it a secret when Harry made all of those rationalizations, but the fact of the matter was that he couldn’t guarantee that it would stay a secret. He didn’t know how many people who had been at the party knew what happened, but at least one did; Nick, and Harry wanted to trust that he wouldn’t tell, but, as he was coming to find, he didn’t know Nick very well. And if Louis was going to end up finding out, he wanted it to be from him.

 

            Harry was in a very domestic mood. If he psychoanalyzed himself, he could come up with a hundred reasons why, but instead, he just decided to go with it. It felt nice and Louis found it adorable when he got like this, so Harry found himself at the grocery store one evening, quickly trying to gather the ingredients he needed for some new recipe he’d found online. Of course, trips outside the home were never super quick. There were always fans who wanted him to stop for a picture, video or even a little chat, not that he minded, of course. He was grateful for all of his and the band’s fans, especially the ones who stuck around when he and Louis and Liam and Zayn had come out as couples. There had been a noticeable decrease in fan activity at first, but either the rest had come around or the boys grew used to the decrease, and they didn’t care all that much anyway.

            “Thank you so much!” the teenage girl he’d just snapped a selfie with breathed as she beamed at the image projected on her phone.

            “It was my pleasure,” Harry assured her with a smile and a hug.

            “You’re so beautiful! Louis is so lucky!” she said before letting out a tiny shriek and running off, probably to call each and every one of her contacts.

            _Yeah,_ Harry thought with a sigh. _Louis is **lucky**_.

 

            “Hazza!” Louis whined as soon as he heard his fiancé come through the door.

            “Yeah, it took a little longer than I expected, babe,” Harry said, planting a sloppy kiss on Louis’ lips before starting to unload the groceries. “I am sincerely sorry. Try not to wither away.”

            “Hmm…no promises. Hey, Haz, how many god damn parties does your best mate have to have?”

            “What are you talking about?” Harry asked, heart picking up its speed a little at the mention of Nick and a party.

            “Our lovely _Grimmy_ is having another little bash next Saturday and, naturally, he invited us.”

            “Louis, I have to tell you something.”

            The words were out of Harry’s mouth before he could stop them and he suddenly found himself facing Louis head on, hands sweaty and clenched at his sides.

            “Okay…,” Louis said, giving the younger man a strange, but only slightly worried look. Harry swallowed hard.

            “I think you should sit down for this.”

            “Harry…I _am_ sitting down.”

            “Oh. Right.”

            Well, _Harry_ needed to sit down, so he did just that.

            “Lou…something happened at Nicks’ party the other night.”

            Louis said nothing, but raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue.

            “Um…,” Harry stammered. His entire body was sweating now, and it was kind of a miracle he hadn’t been sick all over something yet. “Um, so…I got drunk at the party. Really drunk. Trashed. And…I honestly can’t explain exactly how it happened, babe, and I definitely can’t say why, but um….he…I…we…”

            The words weren’t even out of his mouth yet, but Harry heard Louis suck in a sharp breath, sitting farther back in his chair like he was trying to put as much distance between himself and Harry as he could.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry said instead of finishing his original sentence, his eyes wide and wet with unshed tears. “I’m so, so sorry Louis.”

            “No,” Louis said simply, taking a breath before continuing. “Finish what you were going to say, Harry. What did you and Nick do?”

            “Lou…”

            “Harry.”

            “Louis, please don’t make me say it.”

            Louis stared at Harry for a few heart stopping moments before sighing and pressing the tops of his wrists against his eyes hard enough that he had to have been seeing stars.

            “Louis?” Harry tried after a minute, though what he expected from the other man he didn’t know.

            “What, Harry?”

            _Yeah, what, Harry?_

Louis’ voice was still strong, but had a slight quiver and Harry knew he was crying, which finally broke the dam for his own tears.

            “I’m so sorry, baby.”

            “You said that already.”

            “I know.”

            Harry couldn’t say how long they sat in silence after that, but after what seemed like an eternity, Louis uncovered his red, tear-stricken eyes and stood, beginning the descent away from the kitchen and Harry.

            “Where are you going?” Harry asked desperately.

            “To throw up,” Louis answered and Harry let out a whimper.

            “Louis,” he said again, standing to follow him, but Louis snapped,

            “Leave me alone, Harry, Christ!”

            So Harry could do nothing but stare at the back of Louis getting farther and farther away from him, own heart threatening to break into a million pieces. He felt terrible, as he should, that he’d hurt Louis so badly, but a part of him held onto the hope that, now that Harry had come clean, they could talk about their problems and both could start to heal.

            Admittedly, Harry had always been a little too naïve for his own good.


	2. Make Me Feel Broken

            Harry waited in the kitchen for twenty minutes before going to the living room to sprawl himself across the couch. He expected Louis to eventually come back downstairs, but two hours passed and there hadn’t been a peep from the guy.

When Harry realized just how much time had gone by, he started to panic, jumping up from the couch quick enough to make himself dizzy, and hurried upstairs. The door to the couple’s bedroom was cracked, so Harry pushed it open the rest of the way gently. At first, he thought Louis was asleep, tucked into a tight ball on the bed, like he often did when he didn’t feel good. The younger man was just about to leave the room again when a muffled cry was emitted from the boy on the bed and he realized that Louis wasn’t asleep at all.

“Lou,” Harry cried, his own tears starting to fall again. To be honest, Harry wasn’t entirely sure they’d stopped in the first place. Louis didn’t acknowledge him, but his crying got louder and harder from him apparently not bothering to try to hide it from his fiancé anymore. Harry crawled into bed next to him and when he wasn’t pushed out, took another chance in pulling Louis closer to him. To his shock and relief, Louis let him. They didn’t say a word for a while. Harry just held Louis as they both cried, stroking the other man’s hair in a feeble attempt at comfort.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry eventually said softly. “I know I’ve already said that, but I’ll never be able to say it enough. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry.”

            The only response he got was a hiccupping breath from the other guy and Harry really wanted to bang his head into the wall. After another few minutes, Louis cried himself to sleep and soon, Harry did too.

 

            When Louis woke up early the next morning, his head was pounding in a way that could only resemble the beginnings of a migraine.

            Realizing he was still tucked next to Harry’s side, he groaned and rolled away, head and stomach becoming angry at the movement. All he wanted out of the day, or maybe even the week, was to stay in bed, but he had to pee and didn’t think he could hold it for another thirty minutes let alone seven days, so he climbed slowly out of the warm blankets and headed to the bathroom, cursing everything.

            His mouth was super dry, so after using the restroom, he went downstairs to make a cup of tea. That was apparently a bad idea because before even half of the drink was gone, his body was rejecting it.

As bad as he’d felt the previous night, he hadn’t gotten sick. Though he felt like he needed to, he’d fought it, refusing to let Nick and Harry have that much power over him. Now, though, he wondered why he hadn’t just gotten it over with. He felt loads better, and not physically but emotionally as well. He felt lighter; like even though what Harry had done still hurt, it wasn’t actually touching him. Nothing was.

Fleetingly, Louis wondered why he even stopped doing this in the first place before remembering that it was for Harry. Snorting humorlessly, Louis stood from his knees and headed to the sink to wash his hands and face. When he caught a look at himself in the mirror, he grimaced. His face was pale and his eyes red with dark circles under them. Of course, he had cried all night and he’d just thrown up, but that didn’t excuse the pure pudginess of his cheeks. His whole body was pretty pudgy, actually, and a blush rose to Louis’ cheeks as he poked at his stomach. Why didn’t Harry just tell him he wasn’t sexually appealing anymore? Louis would have done something about it. He _was_ going to do something about it.

 

            Nick sent Harry a text that night, asking him if they were okay. Harry didn’t reply. What in the world would make Nick think they could ever be okay again?

            Logically, he knew he shouldn’t be mad at Nick when he was just as much to blame, but he couldn’t help it. He hated Nick almost as much as he hated himself because they broke Louis.

            When Harry had woken up that afternoon, he’d been starving, so he made both himself and his fiancé something to eat, but Louis said his stomach still hurt and couldn’t eat more than three bites. By dinner time, Louis’ stomach was growling though he claimed to still not be hungry. Harry made him soup, and he ate about half of it before promptly throwing it up. He didn’t have a fever-Harry was sure to check. He didn’t have the flu. Harry did this to him.

            Even though he was obviously still upset, Louis didn’t seem too mad anymore. Harry supposed he should be thankful, but he really wished Louis _would_ get mad because Harry deserved it. It would be healthier anyway for Louis to get it out-to scream and yell, call Harry every name in the book, tell him what a terrible fiancé he was-than to keep it all inside and let it tear him apart.

 

            “Lou,” Harry said, voice shaking a bit from nerves. It was a full week after the revelation and they hadn’t talked about it. Louis would cry a lot when he thought Harry wouldn’t notice and could still barely stomach any type of nourishment, but here he was, lying on the couch with the man who cheated on him, letting him hold him in his arms while they watched _Grease_. It wasn’t the same though. Louis wasn’t jumping up during his favorite songs, singing and dancing while Harry watched, laughing in amusement and awe before Louis pulled him up and “forced” him to join. No, Louis had been completely silent during the whole thing and the way his breath sometimes hitched hinted that he really wasn’t paying attention to the movie at all.

            “Hmm?” Louis mumbled in response to Harry, who subconsciously tightened his grip on the man before continuing.

            “I think we need to talk.”

            Louis was quite for almost a solid minute.

            “Are you leaving me?” he finally asked, voice soft and fragile. Harry didn’t think it was possible, but his heart and broke even more.

            “No! No, baby, of course not. It’s just…we haven’t really talked about…you know…that, and I’m glad that you’re still letting me do this; letting me cuddle you and stuff, but pretending like it never happened isn’t the best way to deal with it.”

            “I’m not pretending like it didn’t happen, Harry, but what am I supposed to do about it?”

            “Scream. Yell. Hit me. I don’t know, Lou, but holding all of this hurt and anger inside of you isn’t good.”

            Rolling over, still in his fiance’s arms, Louis gave him the tiniest of smiles and kissed him on the lips; their first kiss for a week.

            “I’m not angry though. Really, I’m fine, okay?”

            Harry didn’t believe him, not completely, but he decided to drop it for fear of just making things worse.

 

            A couple days passed and it was the Thursday before Nick’s next party. Harry hadn’t RSVP’d, thinking it was obvious that he wouldn’t be going. So, naturally, when Harry woke up that morning and padded downstairs, finding Louis in an oversized hoodie he’d “borrowed” from him and baggy sweats that also weren’t his own, sipping on his tea, the blue-eyed guy gave a sweet smile and greeted him with, “Good morning! Nick sent me a message this morning asking if we’d be at his party Saturday and so I told him we would.”

            “We really don’t have to,” Harry said, holding in a groan.

            “Of course we do! He’s your best mate and you’ve never missed one of his parties unless it’s work related.”

            “I don’t care if I never see Nick again,” Harry admitted as he threw himself onto the couch beside Louis and tapped their feet together gently.

            “You don’t mean that,” Louis said.

            “I really, really do though.”

            “Well I already told him yes, so we’re going and that’s that.”

            Harry decided it was in his best interest to not argue, though Louis’ insistence that they go to the party concerned him a little. Was this some strange form of punishment? Or was he actually planning on killing Nick at his own crowded party?

 

            Louis had virtually no energy on Saturday. He hadn’t had anything to eat since the previous afternoon when he’d munched on some celery sticks and even then it had been two days since the eggs and toast he’d eaten and then expelled from his body. Harry had yet to notice, too wrapped up in his own worries, or if he did notice, he didn’t care because he said nothing. Louis didn’t care that he didn’t notice, of course, not really, but it was frustrating that he’d lost over five pounds and was starting to look a little better, at least, and Harry didn’t even compliment him on it or anything.

            He just supposed he was going to have to work harder.

            Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew this was wrong. He knew there were better ways to cope; healthier ways to lose weight, but he _liked_ this way. He liked that it hurt because nothing else seemed that bad compared to the hunger pains and the acid that burned the back of his throat. No one could hurt him as much as that voice in his head that told him that he was still fat, still ugly, still not good enough, still worthless. Besides, it was only temporary. Once the sting of what Harry did didn’t sting so badly and he reached his goal weight, he’d stop. Easy as that. He wouldn’t let it get out of control like last time.

            The only problem at the moment was that he was at the party and he was about to collapse. He needed to get something besides water or tea in him. The crisps and dip were off limits as well as the cupcakes that kept taunting him from the near distance. He briefly considered letting himself eat a few pretzels, but he knew that, usually, once he let himself have even a little treat after being so good, he lost his mind and ended up eating everything in sight. It was fine, he guessed, when he was home alone and could purge away the embarrassment of himself after, but here he was surrounded and if he began to stuff his face, people would stare, amazed by how fat and disgusting he really was.

            So he decided to have a couple drinks instead.

            Really, he didn’t drink that much, but due to the lack of sustenance in his body, Louis got tipsy fast. However, that didn’t help him to not care that he’d just put thick, sugary calories into his previously pure system and he could feel them sticking to his hips, his butt, his thighs…and his stomach. Especially his stomach.

            _Out, out, out,_ Louis chanted silently over and over again. _I need it out._

            Harry was distracted, talking to Liam a little ways away and so Louis snuck up to the upstairs bathroom, which was off limits to guests, but just what he needed.

            Nick had long ago stopped locking the door. Everyone knew they weren’t to enter and they respected that, no matter how sloshed they got. Louis didn’t respect Nick though and so he felt no guilt as he let himself into the bathroom and sunk to his knees by the toilet. His fingers were halfway to his gag reflex when the door flew open and in stepped the host of the party. Nick stared at the site before him, gaping like a fish out of the water, and Louis stared back, frozen with his fingers still in his mouth.

            “Are you okay?” Nick finally managed to ask. That seemed to break whatever invisible force was keeping Louis immobile and he lowered his hand before spitting out a response.

            “Does it look like I’m okay?”

            “Do you…um…do you want me to get Harry?”

            “I don’t want you anywhere _near_ Harry.”

            Nick’s eyes widened at first, realizing that Louis knew, but he composed himself quickly and then he freaking _smirked_ , clearly proud of himself. Without another word, Nick stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Hot tears welled up in Louis’ eyes, but he swallowed against them and took a few even breaths before resuming what he was doing before the rude interruption. He made himself sick over and over again until he saw blood. Light-headed, it registered in the back of his mind that he had never seen blood before, but he didn’t panic. He had everything under control.


	3. Make Me Feel Broken

_“Lou, why do you do it?”_

_Louis was lying on the floor with Harry, both curled up tight together as they watched crap television, and Louis almost found himself playing dumb and asking what Harry meant, but decided against it. It was pointless. He’d been careless and now everyone knew his little secret. But Harry wasn’t looking at him with anger, like Liam, or fear, like Zayn, or pity, like Niall. His green eyes were filled with a sad form of curiosity as he tried to understand a pain that normal 16-year-olds couldn’t, and so Louis sighed, pulling Harry closer to him before he spoke._

_“I don’t know. I guess I just never felt…good enough at anything. It’s always felt like there was something wrong with me. My biological dad…he left my mum soon after I was born and although she assures me there isn’t a thing she would change, it’s always felt like that was my fault. I drove away the man she loved. Then my step-dad…he’s great. He let me change my last name to his when my sister was born and he married my mum so I wouldn’t feel left out, but it’s obvious he doesn’t love me in the same way he does the girls, and I don’t expect him to. But now he and mum are having issues and are probably going to get divorced and I feel like that’s my fault too. So, I don’t know, I guess I just stopped eating much because I thought I didn’t deserve it, but I know that’s fucked, so then I eat, but all I feel after is guilt and it doesn’t go away until I get it out of me.”_

_Harry was quiet for a few moments and Louis started to panic. Now he’d done it. He’d said too much and scared Harry off. He knew there was a reason he’d started fake smiling through the pain. No one wanted to hear about his issues._

_But then Harry said, “You deserve to be happy and healthy, Lou. You **are** good enough. You’re perfect to me and you’re perfect **for** me.” _

That was the scene floating around in Louis’ mind when he came to on Nick’s bathroom floor.

            “Shit,” Louis sighed quietly, quickly sitting up and pulling out his cell phone. It was just after eleven pm, so he couldn’t have been asleep too long, but just as he was gathering his strength to stand, he heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Lou?” Harry’s voice floated through the wood. “Hey, can I come in? Are you okay? Nick said you might be sick.”

Taking a deep breath, Louis stood on shaky legs and stumbled to open the door. He didn’t know what exactly he looked like at the moment, but it made Harry’s eyes widen, worry piercing them as he pulled Louis close to him and held him tight.

            “Come on,” he said softly as he rubbed Louis’ back soothingly. “Let’s go home.”

            Louis wasn’t going to argue with that.

            While Harry drove, Louis fell asleep in the passenger seat against the cool window despite the fact that he was already freezing. He briefly registered waking up when Harry touched his shoulder and told him they were home, and he could feel his legs somehow carrying his body upstairs before letting him collapse on the bed. He felt as if he should be more aware of things since he hadn’t even been that drunk in the first place, but he wasn’t going to worry about it right then.

            When he woke too early the next morning, he felt like death. His head was still swimmy and ached, along with the rest of his body. His throat felt raw and his stomach may have been actually eating itself.

            Letting out a pained whimper, Louis curled himself into a ball, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to take even breaths.

            _You can’t do this anymore,_ he chastised himself. _This has got to end now._

            His body needed nourishment and it needed it now. As much as he wanted to stay in bed and just cry, he had to eat, so Louis held his breath as he forced himself up, making his way quietly downstairs so as not to wake his still-sleeping fiancé.

            The descent downstairs had made Louis a bit light-headed, so he sat on the floor, head between his knees for a couple minutes before he felt stable enough to stand and finish the walk to the kitchen. He found some leftover pancakes in the fridge and heated a couple, eating them quickly once they were done. As he ate, he shut his mind down so he wouldn’t think of the fat and calories he was putting into himself with no plans to expel. Though his stomach was churning and his fingers itching to make their way down his throat, he didn’t give in. He was twenty-two, no longer an angry teenager, and he shouldn’t be wanting to do such juvenile things.

            He finished eating and put the dishes in the dishwasher and went up to shower and brush his teeth. Once he had gotten cleaned up, he was pleased to find that he felt almost human again.

            Harry was awake by that time and Louis found him in the kitchen. The younger man beamed in greeting.

            “‘Morning,” the green-eyed singer said, wrapping Louis into his arms and placing a gentle kiss on his neck.

            “Good morning,” Louis replied, giving the guy a little smile.

            “You ate,” Harry said and Louis wondered how he knew that until he spotted the bottle of syrup he’d left on the table. He pushed the shame out of his mind.

            “I did.”

            “Good. I was worried about you.”

            Instead of giving a verbal response, Louis smacked a kiss onto Harry’s lips. He smiled, but there was concern written all over his face.

            “Are we okay?”

            “Of course we’re okay, Haz,” Louis said, grabbing his fiance’s hands and kissing his mouth again, a little more heavily that time. “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you just how okay we are.”

            Poor, sex deprived Harry agreed immediately, so despite the fact that he’d just gotten a shower, Louis led Harry back to bed. It may have just been the fact that it had been over a week since they’d done anything of a sexual manner but Louis got Harry off quicker than usual and couldn’t help but to think it was due to the extra fat he’d lost before ruining it all that morning.

            Louis pushed those thoughts from his mind as well.

 

            Niall arrived back in London from visiting home that day and made plans for all the boys with him for the next day; just dinner and a movie, but everyone agreed enthusiastically, not really having hung out outside of work for too long.

 

            Louis wasn’t the only one in the band with eating problems. Zayn had the same issue he did-or that he used to have, at least. Unlike Louis, though, he was smart enough to not get caught. Then again, he’d learned from Louis’ mistakes.

            Louis knew about Zayn’s eating disorder, but that was only because it was his fault Zayn had developed it in the first place. He’d known since they had first been put together in a band that Zayn was insecure and used his vanity as a cover-up, but they’d met in the threshold of Louis’ disorder and back then, the oldest One Direction member couldn’t imagine anyone going through what he was going through or feeling the way he did. That was why, when Louis had found Zayn curled up in his bed, crying from an apparent terrible stomach ache, having eaten, in his words, “way too much,” the blue-eyed singer didn’t hesitate to show him how to purge when asked. His intentions were pure. He’d just wanted to make his friend feel better, but he soon caught on to the fact that Zayn was using what he taught him as more than a one-time relief mechanism. He didn’t even deny it when Louis had asked, just begged him not to tell. At that time, he’d had a huge crush on Liam and was terrified that he would never give him a chance if he found out. Three years later, Zayn and Liam were now dating, and Louis thought it was unfair to keep Liam in the dark, but he also knew it wasn’t his place to tell.

            At their group dinner that night, Louis kept his eyes on Zayn, admittedly impressed. He ate over half of what was on his plate and even took a couple bites of what Liam had ordered, making sure to appropriately widen his eyes when he told Liam how good it was. When the waitress came to take all of their plates, Zayn excused himself to go to the bathroom and Louis did the same.

            “You should stay there, Louis,” Zayn said, though he kept walking.

            “I have to pee,” Louis defended, knowing that Zayn knew it was a lie. Still, the younger guy didn’t argue.

            They were the only two in the bathroom and Zayn let out a happy, content sigh at that. Still, he made sure to press the button on the hand dryer a couple of times before locking himself in a stall.

            He was out before the dryer was even off, the only sign at all of what he did being his slightly wet eyes, but with a couple blinks and a big smile, they were back to normal. He walked by Louis to get to the sink, scrubbing his hands thoroughly before rinsing out his mouth and popping in a piece of gum. Louis had to admit that he was, again, impressed.

            Realizing that he was being stared at, Zayn met Louis’ eyes in the mirror and gave him another smile, though that one was sadder.

            “You’re so perfect,” Louis commented. Though it was an obvious compliment, Zayn’s smile quickly turned into a frown.

            “You okay?” he asked, glancing in the mirror long enough to fix his hair before turning and fixing Louis’ as well.

            “Yeah, I’m fine,” Louis said, almost visibly cringing at how fake his voice made the assurance sound.

            “Did you relapse?”

            “No.”

            Zayn gave him a look and Louis shrugged uncomfortably.

            “I didn’t,” he insisted.

            “Good.”

            “And I’m not trying to be rude, Zaynie, but even if I did relapse, which I didn’t, but if I did, aren’t you being a bit hypocritical getting all ready to lecture me?”

            The other man gave a little laugh as he half nodded.

            “I guess I am, but I can’t help it. I’m glad you got better, Lou.”

            “I wish you would too.”

            And he did. He may deserve everything he put his body through, but Zayn didn’t.

            “I will,” Zayn spoke, voice strong. “I’ll get better. You gave me faith that I won’t feel like this forever.”

            Louis swallowed, guilt forming heavy in his gut, and it only grew worse when the two arrived back at the table and Liam greeted his boyfriend with a bright smile, pulling his chair closer, thinking everything was brilliant and having no idea that the guy he loved had just been making himself sick in the bathroom-or that Louis had taught him how, even if Zayn was better at it than he ever was.

            On top of the guilt was another heavy layer of jealousy.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support! Also, because I can't believe I forgot to mention it before now, the title of this is from the song "Gunnin" by Hedley, which is pretty much the theme song to this story. So that's that :)

            Louis couldn’t pay attention to the movie at all. He’d gotten out of eating popcorn as they’d all just had dinner and none were hungry except Niall, but that didn’t matter. Though he’d been careful to not eat too much at the restaurant, he felt as if he’d eaten a full buffet on his own and he half expected to not fit into the chair when they took their seats. So he spent the duration of the movie fighting the urge to go to the bathroom and throw up whatever hadn’t already been digested of his dinner. He started to stand three whole times before reminding himself he was better now.

            “You okay?” Harry mouthed, eyebrows pulled together in concern on Louis’ last aborted stand. Louis nodded, burying his face into Harry’s shoulder. Harry lifted the drink holder and pulled his fiancé closer, giving the top of his head a kiss. Niall threw popcorn at them.

 

            Though the boys knew nothing of what had happened between Louis and Harry, they caught on quickly that, at least with Louis, something wasn’t quite right. Louis tried to pretend everything was fine, he really did, but ironically, it was easier to pretend he was fine when he was giving in to the disorder and letting himself starve than when he was actually healthy. He laughed at Niall’s jokes a little too loudly to be genuine, tried to start conversations that went nowhere and put too many smilies in his texts. When he realized that the boys weren’t buying the act, he gave up and stopped replying or even communicating with them altogether. He felt bad, but thought it was for the best. He didn’t want to drag the others down.

 

            “Louis.”

            From his state of half consciousness, Louis could hear someone saying his name, which probably should have been worrisome since Harry was in another country and so he was supposed to be alone in the house, but he just snorted and buried his head deeper into the pillow.

            “Louis! Lou! Lewis! Tommo! Louis Tomlinson! Wakey wakey!”

            A hand touched his shoulder and Louis shook it off, telling whoever was disturbing his peace to kindly go jump off a bridge. The response he received in turn was a wet, warm tongue sliding across the back of his neck, and Louis yelped as he shot upright to face his molester.

            “Liam! What in the hell?!”

            The other guy simply gave an ornery smile, ruffling up Louis’ hair.

            “Good morning, sunshine!” he greeted cheerily. “I’ve brought you breakfast in bed.”

            He nodded towards a tray with a simple bowl of cereal on it and Louis raised an eyebrow.

            “So romantic. What would Zayn think?”

            “Well, you see, I was kind of hoping this could be our little secret,” Liam said, a look of false seriousness on his face.

            “Go make me some tea and it’s a deal.”

            With a smile, Liam obediently hopped off the bed and made his way to Louis and Harry’s kitchen. Sighing, Louis pulled the bowl of cereal closer and began to eat. Liam soon returned with his beverage and Louis sipped it before speaking.

            “ _Now_ I know why Zayn puts up with you.”

            Liam continued to smile and Louis nearly rolled his eyes.

            “So, not to be rude, but how did you get in my flat and what are you doing in my bedroom, attacking me with your saliva at such an ungodly hour?”

            “It’s 9:30,” Liam defended. “And, besides, we have an appointment soon. Oh, and Harry gave me the key to your flat before he flew off to LA.”

            “Of course he did. Now what is this appointment you speak of? It sounds absolutely terrifying.”

            Liam rolled his eyes, looking highly pleased with himself all the same.

            “We’re just going to get you fitted for your tux, silly goose.”

            “What? What do I need a tux for?”

            “Um…you’re getting married in a few months! Or have you forgotten?”

            “Of course not. Have I heard of this appointment before?”

            “Nope. I decided to surprise you!”

            “Thank you, Liam.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            Apparently, Liam either didn’t get the sarcasm in Louis’ tone or he was ignoring it.

            As soon as he was done with his breakfast, Louis was forced into the shower and then dragged out of the house. He tried to be excited. After all, he was marrying the love of his life and he wanted to look his best for him. Besides, he knew Liam’s intentions were good. Harry had to go to LA just after the New Year and Louis knew Liam was trying to make sure he didn’t stay in bed, wallowing in self-pity the entire time. He really did appreciate it, but at the same time, he really didn’t need to hear someone read his measurements out loud for all of the shop to hear. He didn’t need to hear how huge he was and when the large, large numbers reached his ears, Louis started to have his doubts about the whole thing. If that was what he looked like, how would Harry still want to marry him? How would anyone want to marry him?

            “Well that was fun,” Liam said happily as he climbed into his car once the torture was over. Louis kind of wanted to hit him. “So,” the younger guy continued. “I’m starving. How about a late lunch?”

            Louis stared. Liam had to have been mocking him. The ass hole at the suit shop just confirmed that Louis was a beached whale and so of course the first thing Liam wanted to do was feed him.

            Swallowing against the lump that rose in his throat, Louis laid his head against the back of the seat.

            “I’m not hungry,” he said softly. He expected Liam to start a debate, but he didn’t. He just drove him home. Even he knew that Louis didn’t need to eat.

            As soon as Louis was in the house, he headed straight to the bathroom without even taking his coat off first. He didn’t stop making himself throw up until he saw blood again.

            That was just a minor relapse, though, and nothing at all to worry about. Louis went three weeks without purging, no matter how bad he wanted to, and he ate just as much as he did before, when he was deemed “recovered.” All of the weight he’d lost piled back on and Louis felt like a failure, but the logical part of him knew that what he had been doing was sick and wouldn’t get him anywhere.

 

            Harry came home after more than a month of being in LA and Louis had to admit that it felt nice being able to pick him up at the airport and not worry that people were seeing their tight embrace as they were reunited. For the first time in a long time, Louis felt good. It was almost like things were normal between them again. Once they got home, they ate diner, then watched a movie, though they spent more time talking and kissing than watching the screen.

            Still, as much as Louis was enjoying the time with his fiancé, he couldn’t stop the voice screaming from the back of his mind that he still wasn’t good enough. Harry wasn’t only his anymore, and Louis needed to know why. He hadn’t wanted to hear it before. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle Harry pointing out the flaws in Louis that had driven him away, if even just for a night, but Louis decided now that he was ready. He needed to hear everything that was wrong with him from Harry, not from the voice, so he would know exactly what he needed to fix.

            “Harry,” he said, pulling out of a heated kiss and running a nervous hand through his hair while Harry cocked his head, a range of emotions in his eyes. “We need to talk.”

            “I know,” Harry said, using his thumb to gently rub a spot on Louis’ cheek. It took everything Louis had to not melt into the touch.

            “Why’d you do it?” he asked, voice a lot softer than he would have liked. Harry frowned, leaning a bit away from Louis before sighing.

            “I wish I had a proper answer to give you, Lou, but I really just…don’t know. It was a bad mixture of stress and way too much alcohol, I guess. I just wasn’t thinking. Like, at all.”

            “But why were you stressed?” Louis pressed. “I must have done something.”

            “No!” Harry said, immediately reaching out to take Louis’ hand in his own. “No, Louis, you didn’t do anything. Don’t ever think that. I was just stressed from how busy this past year has been, I guess, but it had nothing to do with you.”

            “Was it something I _didn’t_ do then?”

            “No, babe, what I did…it was all me. You’re perfect, boo bear.”

            “I’m not perfect.”

            “You are to me….for me.”

            So Louis forced a smile and cuddled with Harry for the rest of the night, though he didn’t believe a word of what his fiancé had said.

            The next day, Louis found himself inside Nick Grimshaw’s house. It really was the last place he wanted to be, but if he wouldn’t get a straight answer from Harry, he thought he might have better luck with his best friend and lover.

            “Lou, can’t you just let it go?”

            Nick, in his defense, did look rather uncomfortable; much more uncomfortable than when he had walked in on Louis making himself sick in his bathroom.

            “No, I can’t let it go! Something is obviously not right and Harry won’t tell me what and I need to know in order to fix it!”

            “He loves you,” Nick sighed. “He’s still with you, what more do you need?”

            “I need things to be normal again, Nick!” Louis whined, unashamed of it. Nick sighed, rubbing his hands over his face before speaking again.

            “I don’t want you to feel any worse than you already do, Lou.”

            “That’s a long shot anyway.”

            The man sighed again before uncovering his face and looking at Louis with pity in his eyes.

            “Louis….maybe the physical attraction just isn’t there anymore.”

            “Why do you say that?”

            “Well, I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything, but he did off handedly say something once or twice about how you’re getting a bit…out of shape.”

            Louis felt actual life drain from his body.

 

            He went the rest of the night and the next day without eating, telling Harry begrudgingly that he was sick. Harry had pointed out that he had been getting sick a lot and should go to the doctor, and Louis told him he would without, of course, any intention of doing so.

 

            Harry had a radio interview for Nick’s radio show the next week and on the same day as Louis’ doctor appointment, naturally. He was still feeling bad and Harry hated leaving him like that, especially when he’d agreed to no part of this interview in the first place, but Louis assured him he was capable of getting himself to the doctor. Still, Harry couldn’t shake the thought of what had happened last time he’d left Louis when he was sick.

            “Harry.”

            “Yes, Nick?”

            “Can I ask you something? It’s about Lou.”

            Harry narrowed his eyes. The interview hadn’t started yet and Harry had been successfully avoiding the other guy until this point. At his fiancé’s name, he stopped and turned, arms crossed tight over his chest.

            “If it’s nice,” Harry allowed. Nick nodded.

            “Does he…I mean…does he have an eating disorder of some kind?”

            “No…,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

            “Because at the party back in December, when he got sick, I walked in on him and he…it looked like he was gagging himself. Like, on purpose.”

            “He _used_ to do that,” Harry said, shocked at how defensive his voice sounded. “He doesn’t anymore.”

            “You’re sure?”

            _Yes_ , Harry wanted to say. He wanted to be sure, but the way his heart nearly doubled in speed told him that he wasn’t.

 

            _“Where is Louis?!” Liam nearly shouted, about to enter a full-fledged panic attack._

_“We’ll find him,” Zayn assured him, reaching out to touch the boy’s shoulder comfortingly but stopping himself and awkwardly messing with his own hair instead._

_“Bathroom?” Niall suggested and Harry hurried to check. It didn’t make much sense that Louis would decide to risk using the restroom five minutes before their X Factor performance, but he didn’t know where else he could be, not answering their texts or calls. Besides, it made a lot more sense when Harry walked in and saw Louis on his knees in one of the stalls, terrible retching sounds coming from inside._

_“Lou?” Harry asked. There was a cough and a half gag before Louis, sounding terrified, said,_

_“Harry?”_

_“Can I….can I come in?”_

_“No, I’m fine. Go tell the guys I’ll be there in, like, two minutes.”_

_“But…you’re sick.”_

_“No I’m not. Just….nervous. I’ll be there in a minute, I promise.”_

_Without much other choice, Harry made his way back to the group, wishing Louis would just let him comfort him._

_“He’s sick, guys,” Harry told the curious stares sadly, and the reactions were not what he was expecting. Niall sighed, Zayn bit his lip and fidgeted nervously and Liam rolled his eyes. “What?” Harry asked, a bit of anger forming in his chest. “It’s not like he can help it.”_

_“It’s **exactly** like he can help it,” Liam disagreed. “This…disorder or whatever is going to mess this up for everybody…”_

_“What disorder?” Harry asked, and Niall and Zayn shot each other a nervous glance. “What?!” the youngest boy questioned. “What’s wrong with Louis?”_

_“He’s bulimic,” Niall finally said. “Or is it anorexic?”_

_“I’m not sure,” Zayn said and Niall shrugged._

_“All we know is that when he eats, he throws up.”_

_“ **Makes** himself throw up,” Liam amended and Zayn looked to the ground, biting his lip again. Harry frowned, unable to understand why Louis would do that when he was already perfect. But he couldn’t question further because then Louis arrived and the boys were placed hurriedly in their positions. _

_The two were cuddled close on the couch when Harry finally got the nerve to ask if it was true. Louis stayed silent, staring at the television intently like he hadn’t heard what Harry said even though the younger guy knew he did._

_“I’ll help you get better,” Harry said then, determined. Louis turned to him and, with a smile, placed a soft, warm kiss on his lips. It was their first kiss and, despite everything, Harry took that as a promise that everything would be okay._

Now Harry realized that everything was not okay, and he wondered just how long it had been that way.

            When the younger singer got home, his fiancé was sitting on the couch, watching TV in baggy sweats. Acting mostly on emotion, Harry snapped off the TV and grabbed onto Louis’ hand, tugging on it repeatedly and telling him to get up.

            “What the hell?” Louis asked, keeping his butt firmly placed on the couch.

            “We’re going to dinner,” Harry explained.

            “Haz, I can’t, I’m-”

            “Sick, I know. With your eating disorder.”

            Louis’ eyes widened, but instead of denying it, he simply stared at Harry before breaking down in tears. Dropping the guy’s hand, Harry curled up next to him on the couch and pulled him close, holding him while he cried. When he’d composed himself, Harry left his side to make a couple of grilled cheeses.

            Louis didn’t argue when he was handed his plate, but after half of the sandwich was gone, he was in tears again.

            “Lou, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, once again pulling the smaller guy close.

            “How will you ever start loving me again if I’m fat and disgusting?!” Louis cried, body shaking from the force of his sobs.

            “You’re not fat or disgusting,” Harry said, voice thick from his own heart breaking. “And I’ll always love you, boo, no matter what.”

            But Louis continued to cry and it started to finally hit Harry just how badly he’d broken Louis. He’d fixed the damaged boy just to destroy him again, and this time Harry wondered if he was beyond repair.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter wasn't supposed to be this long, but here we are. Sorry about that!

            It took a couple weeks filled with a lot of fighting and tears, but Louis got both his mind and body used to eating regularly again. Harry was smart enough to know by this point that Louis’ relationship with food would never be completely normal, but he made a vow to never let him get that far gone again. Well, that was the plan at least. Truthfully, he knew only Louis could determine his fate with the problem, and that scared the shit out of him. He also knew, though he didn’t like to admit it, that he was virtually clueless on what to do or say when Louis felt fat, worthless, gross, or whatever other negative word he’d called himself over the past couple of weeks.

            But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to fight like hell for the guy, even if he was fighting blindly.

            When the worst was over; when Louis didn’t take a half an hour to eat half of his food, when he stopped curling into a ball after every meal and when he no longer had to apologize to Harry, saying that he just couldn’t keep it in before hurrying away, things started to feel almost normal again. There was still tension between the couple and sometimes when he thought Harry wouldn’t notice, Louis would let himself tear up, over what, the younger guy could only guess, but Harry remained cautiously optimistic that all of that would fade in time.

 

            It wasn’t long before Harry had to fly back to LA and when Louis woke earlier than usual to take him to the airport, he felt terrible. His body ached and he was burning up despite the fact that it was freezing outside. He didn’t say anything though, thinking Harry would just assume he was relapsing. He made himself some peppermint tea, which didn’t help his temperature at all, but it made his stomach feel better and he could eat by the time they arrived at the restaurant Harry wanted to eat at before leaving London.

 

            “I don’t want to go,” Harry pouted, gripping Louis’ hand tighter as they prepared to part.

            “I know, babe, but it’s not for long this time,” Louis said. Normally, he would banter back and forth with Harry about how unfair their lives sometimes were and who would miss who more, but right now, he just needed a bed. Harry tilted his head, but gave Louis a sad smile before squeezing him tight and walking away.

            When he got back home, it was confirmed that he had the flu; fever vomiting, the whole nine yards.

            “Fuck you, world,” Louis muttered before climbing into bed and falling asleep for a remainder of the day in bed questioning why he was even born in the first place.

            His phone buzzing woke him up at two in the morning. When he saw that it was a text from Harry, Louis actually smiled a little.

            _Just landed! Finally! I can’t call right now but I wanted to check in._

_I love you,_ Louis replied. That was the only thing on his mind besides the misery.

            _Love you too X,_ Harry sent back and Louis miraculously smiled again before falling back to sleep with his phone clutched to his chest.

 

            Louis didn’t think it was possible, but he was worse the next day. He thought there was a possibility he was actually dying.

            _Who did this to me?_ He angry texted Zayn before realizing he had an unread message in his inbox. It was Harry once again.

            _Good morning! I hope this doesn’t wake you, but I can’t sleep. Wish you were here._

_No you don’t,_ Louis replied, before sending him a separate message on the details of his flu which, in retrospect, Harry didn’t need or probably want to know. It took a while for a reply that time, but then, finally, his phone vibrated.

            _That’s no fun :O But on the bright side, it might help you lose the weight you put on, right?_

            All Louis could do then was gape at his phone, anger-rage, actually-creeping throughout his entire body. How could Harry say that when he knew better than anyone what he’d been going through?

            Soon, though, the rage changed forms and he was no longer mad at his fiancé. He was mad at himself for being weak and letting himself turn into a humongous beast again.

 

            Louis decided there must have been a higher power because he felt better the next day. The only sign of his illness was the weakness from having next to nothing in his system. That really wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, though, nor a particularly unpleasant one, if he was being honest, so he went without eating.

Most of the day went by with no word from Harry but, finally, Louis got a call late in the evening.

            “Hello?” he answered, too quickly, but whatever.

            “Hey!” Harry said and Louis could see the plastered on the guy’s face despite the fact that they were oceans away from each other.

            “Hey, love. How’s LA?”

            “It’s okay. I’d rather be with you. Are you feeling any better?”

            “Kind of.”

            “We have soup in one of the cupboards. It’s one of those cup things too so you don’t even have to use the stove.”

            Louis genuinely laughed at that. Harry knew him too well.

            “Thanks,babe. I’ll heat it up soon.”

            He didn’t.

            Louis had barely eaten when Harry got home a week later and had lost some weight, not much, but apparently enough for his fiancé to notice.

            “Lou,” Harry said with a frown after he let the smaller man out of their embrace right in the middle of the airport.

            “Well, I can see you’re really happy to see me,” Louis teased, smile curling on his lips.

            “No, I am. Of course I am, but you’re getting pretty skinny again, baby. Is…is everything okay?”

            “I almost died from the flu, remember, Hazza?” Louis said with a wink before pulling Harry close and rubbing up against him as he went up on his tiptoes to kiss the taller guy’s lips. Harry’s body reacted positively so Louis guessed he wasn’t really complaining about his improved shape and a sense of pride welled up in him.

 

            Now that Harry was home, Louis couldn’t get away with eating nothing, but what he did eat never stayed inside of him for long. The logical part of him still knew what he was doing wasn’t right, but he was starting to enjoy the light-headed feeling he had pretty much all of the time. The hunger pains were the only things that sometimes made him cave, but the sense of accomplishment he achieved when he overcame them, usually by tricking his stomach with water, was the best feeling he’d had in a while.

 

            Soon after Harry arrived back in London, it was Louis and Harry’s anniversary. Everyone knew that, including their management team, and while the boys were out now, the big guys in charge still liked as little attention on them as possible and so they were, again, sending Harry away for his and Louis’ supposed-to-be-special day. So they decided to celebrate early.

            They weren’t doing much. Harry decided he would cook for them and they would both get tipsy on champagne over dinner, and then let the rest of the night play out however their not quite their minds allowed, within reason, of course.

            While Harry was busy at the stove, tossing various spices into a pot, decked out in his apron and everything, Louis sat on the counter, watching as he sipped on his water. (He’d wanted to get an early start on the champagne, but Harry had smacked his hand away from the bottle when he’d given it a try.)

            “Shit, Lou,” Harry said, turning around to face his fiancé with wide, guilty eyes.

            “What? What did you do?” Louis teased, a smile forming on his face. He loved how into his cooking Harry got.

            “I forgot the ingredients for the cake,” Harry admitted like he’d committed a mortal sin.

            “That’s okay,” Louis assured him. “We don’t need cake.”

            Harry looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

            “Of course we need cake, Lou.”

            “Well, do you want me to keep watch over your concoction while you run to the store?”

            The younger man’s eyes widened again at that, pure terror showing on his face.                

            “I’d rather you run to the store, babe…”

            So that was how Louis found himself sulking through the grocery store on the day of his anniversary celebration, looking for ingredients for a cake he was just going to vomit up anyway. He was so busy feeling sorry for himself that he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and ran right into someone.

            “Sorry,” he muttered, looking up to face the other person, and when he saw who it was, he kind of really wanted to go outside and lay in the middle of the street.

            “Oh, hey, Louis,” Nick greeted with a bright smile. “You’re looking fit.”

            As the older man’s eyes scanned over his body, Louis wanted to feel violated and disgusted, but, to his horror, he found himself biting back a smile.

            “Thank you. Sorry about…you know…running into you.”

            “No harm done. I am surprised to see you here though. I thought Harry was the housewife?”

            “I’m his slave apparently.”

            “Sounds fun.”

            Nick winked and Louis fidgeted uncomfortably. He was just about to excuse himself when the other guy spoke again.

            “Hey, it’s your anniversary soon, isn’t it?”

            “Um…yeah. That’s kind of why I’m here. Harry insists we need cake.”

            A blush formed on Louis’ cheeks and Nick laughed, both knowing fully well that Louis, for one, didn’t need cake. Instead of saying anything about it though, Nick just said,

            “Well, have fun. Happy anniversary.”

            Louis thanked him again before hurrying off to finish shopping before he changed his mind.

            Harry texted Louis on the way home and he waited until he was stopped at a red light before checking it.

            _Never mind about the cake,_ it read. _I don’t think you need it._

            It was amazing that Louis didn’t get in a wreck after that since angry, hurt tears were nearly blinding him. He swallowed them down before walking into the house, slamming the grocery bags onto the counter and storming upstairs. Harry called after him, but Louis ignored him and the younger guy didn’t come to get him until dinner was ready, cake and all. Louis wanted to punch him.

            In an act of rebellion, or perhaps just because he was an atrocious boar, Louis binge ate at dinner. He helped himself to three servings of the main course and four pieces of cake. Harry watched the whole time, though it was obvious he tried not to, opening his mouth more than once to say something, but then deciding against it.

            Needless to say, Louis was miserable after. He’d eaten a lot for a normal person and definitely an obscene amount for someone like him, whose body wasn’t used to having anything in it.

            As he lay, wishing for death on the bathroom floor, Harry came in and sat beside him wordlessly, playing with Louis’ hair until he had to get up and lean over the toilet. The younger guy stayed even then, rubbing his back, but remained quiet even as Louis finished, brushed his teeth, washed his face and crawled into bed. Harry joined soon, simply rubbing a hand softly up and down Louis’ side until they both fell asleep.

            He was still silent the next day when Louis didn’t eat at all.

 

            Neither of them saw the other guys until the Brit Awards a few days later. It had been almost a month since they’d all seen each other and three sets of eyes widened when Louis approached, especially Zayn’s, whose face also grew pale as he gave a small, subconscious shake of his head. Louis smiled, proud of himself again. The weight loss must have been noticeable then.

            Liam was too drunk to notice, on in the least, care, when Zayn and Louis skipped eating at the dinner, but, with a humorless, nervous laugh, Niall said, “Don’t you two eat?”

            He tried to keep the tone light, but the fear was written all over his face, so while Zayn said something about not feeling well, Louis picked up a piece of bread and shoved it into his mouth, staring at his blonde band mate while he did so.

            “I’m going to the loo, lads. I’ll be back,” Louis announced after he’d finished his bit of dinner. Zayn followed.

            “Don’t do this,” he said once they were out of earshot of the other boys. Louis kept walking and Zayn’s voice grew more panicked. “Lou, please!”

            “You have no room to talk in this situation,” Louis retorted, continuing his quest for a toilet.

            “But I’m trying to get better!”

            “Oh yeah? How hard? Because I didn’t exactly see you relishing in the delicious food provided for us just a minute ago.”

            Instead of directly replying to Louis’ statement, Zayn changed angles, voice a little weaker than before.

            “Think of how much it’s got to be hurting Harry. Or how much it will hurt, if he doesn’t know yet.”

            “Okay, yeah, but how much do you think it would hurt Liam?”

            They had reached the bathroom at that point, and when Zayn didn’t say anything, Louis was tempted to just go into the stall and get his business done without another word, but something made him stop and when he turned, he saw Zayn standing a bit away, chewing his lip. There was a well of tears behind his eyes that made Louis want to punch himself in the face.

            “Oh god, Z, I’m sorry. I really am. But I just think Liam would be a lot more worried over you than Harry would over me.”

            “How do you figure that?”

            Zayn’s voice was small still, like his entire persona was about to crack at any moment, and Louis sighed.

            “I just know, okay?” he said, own voice low now.

            “Is everything okay with you and Haz?”

            That topic was just a little out of Louis’ comfort zone, so instead of replying, he turned and entered a stall. _Of course_ the bathroom didn’t have a blow dryer, so Louis was just going to have to risk someone hearing him. Apparently that person wasn’t going to be Zayn because he left as Louis started to gag and he realized that it was too late to help him.

            When Louis got back to the table, Zayn had his head buried in Liam’s shoulder while Liam clumsily played with the back of his hair, seeming to realize now that something was wrong. In that moment, Louis hated himself more than he even he ever thought he could.

            Once the awards show was over, Niall and Harry decided to go celebrate their victory. The other boys were, of course, invited, but Liam was already smashed, so Zayn decided it best to get him home. Louis didn’t really have an excuse, he just didn’t want to go, so he stayed at his place, lying on the couch in the dark and trying not to think about anything. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there like the pathetic log he was, but he eventually heard the doorbell ring, accompanied by frantic pounding on the front door. Groaning, Louis threw himself off the couch and made his way blearily to see who was visiting him so late.

            “Who’s it?” he called once he was a few feet away from the door.

            “Zayn,” came the reply, and suddenly Louis’ footsteps got just a bit quicker, heart rate picking up uncomfortably.

            “Jesus, what happened?” the older guy demanded when he opened the door to come face-to-face with a tear-stricken Zayn. He’d be lying if he said the image wasn’t just a bit terrifying. The guys had all seen each other break down before, more times than each would care to admit, but Zayn was typically the kind to shut himself away when he was upset. Louis had always disliked that about him because it was hard to just sit around and feel useless while one of his “brothers” was upset, but now that Zayn was actually coming for help, he still felt useless.

            “Come in,” he added before Zayn could get words out of his mouth. He did. Taking his hand, Louis led him over to the couch he’d just abandoned, flipping on a couple lights on the way.

            “Were you asleep?” Zayn asked as they sat, messing nervously with the sweats he’d changed into after taking off the suit from the show.

            “No, and it wouldn’t matter if I was.”

            “So you were.”

            “Weren’t. Now what’s wrong?”

            Zayn didn’t say anything for a minute, but Louis could practically see the gears turning in his head as he worked on his answer, so he didn’t push him.

            “I lied to him,” he finally said.

            “Liam?” Louis verified. He didn’t know who else Zayn would be talking about, but he just honestly didn’t know what else to say. Zayn nodded.

            “It’s always been like…I haven’t _really_ been lying to him about this, you know, because I hid it well and he never questioned anything. I was keeping something from him, yeah, and I felt bad, but I’d never looked into his eyes and told him a lie until tonight. He trusts me, Lou, and I’ve always told him the truth, but now I don’t deserve that trust anymore.”

            “But you lied to protect him, right?” Louis tired. “Assuming you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, you know it would hurt him and you were just trying to keep him from that.”

            “That’s part of it, yeah, but I did it to protect me too. I _know_ this is wrong. I _know_ how dangerous it is, but it’s like…I need it. But I shouldn’t. Liam is…he’s so amazing and he should be all I need, so why am I like this?”

            Louis swallowed, forcing the tears that were prickling his eyes away. It wasn’t his time to break.

            “People always think that, Zayn,” he said softly. “They always think that someone else can save them. But only you can save you. Liam can help, though, if you let him. We all can.”

            Zayn bit his lip again, eyes filling up more before he said, “But I lied and if I tell him the truth now, he’ll know I lied.”

            “And he’ll be upset, but he’ll forgive you.”

            Zayn sighed, but didn’t speak.                                  

            “Do you want to tell me what happened exactly?” Louis offered.

            “We got home and you know how drunk he was, so when he collapsed upstairs in the bed, I figured he was out for good and…I was so hungry. Like, it’s been forever since I’ve really eaten and I couldn’t be strong anymore. Plus, I am trying to get better, honestly, so I ate something and I kept it in for almost a full half hour before I just…I couldn’t anymore. I didn’t bother running the water, or playing my music, or any of the other things I usually do because, like I said, I thought he was out. But apparently he needed the toilet and…I didn’t even lock the fucking door…and he walked in.”

            “So, did he catch you actually doing it, or…?”

            “No, but he may as well have, as much as he freaked out. It was kind of cute, actually, him trying to be all comforting and nurturing while he couldn’t even tell which me was the real one.”

            Zayn was smiling a little, and Louis smiled too, but touched his hand gently before saying, “So what then?”

            “I told him it was a migraine. I said it was nothing serious. I told him I needed to go to bed and I would be all better in the morning.”

            “That’s not a terrible lie or anything, though, love. Besides, this whole thing is kind of a headache, so when you put it that way-”

            “That’s not the part I’m worried about though. I told him that I just had to sleep it off, but I can’t. I won’t wake up and be better. I’ll still have to go through the fight between my mind and body on if I should eat, and how much, and if it’s worth throwing up or not, and the worst part is, I can’t even tell what’s telling me to do what anymore. I’ll still look in the mirror and see something different from what everyone says they see and I’ll still feel guilty, no matter what I do.”

            Louis opened his mouth to say something, though what, he didn’t know, but thankfully, Zayn saved him from having to say anything.

            “I can’t feel like this anymore,” he said, a determined look on his face. “I have to get help. I have to get better.”

            “Yes! Good, Zayn, yes!” Louis breathed, aware that he sounded highly unintelligible, but he was so relieved he couldn’t help it. Zayn gave him a smile, but grabbed Louis’ hand, gripping it so tight it almost hurt, but Louis didn’t say anything about it.

            “But I can’t do this alone,” Zayn said, face full of seriousness. “Get better with me, Louis, please?”

            And so Louis told him of course he would, feeling guilty (a rather familiar feeling these days) when Zayn wrapped his thin limbs around him and held onto him like an anchor because he knew, in the end, he would let Zayn down. He would go through the motions, pretending to be healing, but he had no real intention or desire to actually do so until he was whatever Harry wanted him to be. If he couldn’t ever become that, he was going to die trying.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how these chapters keep getting longer and longer...
> 
> More notes at the end

            Zayn and Louis spent a lot of time together after that night. Sometimes they would have their own little therapy sessions in which they would discuss their feelings with each other and talk about their progress or missteps. (Louis may have slightly exaggerated the number of successes he’d had while undermining the number of times he’d fallen.) Zayn hadn’t told Liam about his problem yet, but he swore he was going to, and Louis believed him.

            Harry seemed to sense something was going on and became clingier to his fiancé whenever he was around. Louis got the feeling that he was starting to feel a bit neglected, but Louis thought bitterly that it served him right. Really, though, he didn’t typically mind the clinginess. As uncomfortable as things sometimes were between the couple, it all felt right when they were snuggled up, not bothering to try to make small talk, just soaking in each other’s warmth. At times, though, the warmth could be suffocating and Louis just needed to be alone. Harry seemed to somehow know when that was the case and let him be.

            Tonight was one of those nights and so Louis was alone in bed, despite the fact that it was just after nine. He didn’t feel lonely, though, and wasn’t even sad. In fact, he thought he’d laughed more that night than he had in a while, texting back and forth with his oldest sister. She didn’t know what was going on with Louis and Harry, or even Louis by himself, and it was nice that there was someone who wasn’t afraid to still make fun of him and talk to him without an undertone of worry in her words.

            Around ten, Harry came into the bedroom, changed into his sleeping clothes and then entered the bathroom in the couple’s room, leaving the door cracked slightly so as not to alienate either of them.

            Once he’d finished doing what he had to do, he re-entered the bedroom, looking unsure, like he didn’t know whether he was welcome to stay or not. Setting his phone down on his nightstand, Louis smiled at his fiancé and patted the opposite side of the bed. Beaming, Harry climbed in and nuzzled into the older guy’s side.

            “Liam took me to look for my tux today,” he said and Louis felt a little embarrassed at how much smaller Harry’s width measurements had to have been than his, but he took slight comfort in the fact that by the time he actually had to put on his suit, it would be huge on him. That was, of course, if the wedding actually happened.

            “You’re going to look so hot,” Louis spoke when he realized Harry was waiting for him to say something.

            “We still have so much to do,” the younger man sighed.

            “I know.”

            “You know, since it’s only, like, five months away, we should really get official invitations sent out.”

            Lifting Harry’s chin up, Louis placed a kiss on his lips so it wouldn’t feel like a rejection when he said, “We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?” before rolling over and turning his light off.

            Harry usually got what he wanted, though, so the next day, Louis was in a card shop, browsing through the wedding invitations with him. Louis’ lack of enthusiasm seemed to be apparent because while Harry started out a bouncing ball of dimpled smiles, his whole demeanor quickly changed and he flipped through the selection looking bored and with a frown on his face.

            “Look, do you still want to get married?” he asked finally, looking up into Louis’ face and angling his body towards him, one hand on his hip.

            “Yes,” Louis said honestly. “I want to marry you, Haz, but do you still want to marry me?”

            “Of course,” Harry said slowly, looking at Louis like he’d just grown an extra head. Louis nodded, forcing a smile on his face as he willed himself to cheer up and not ruin yet another day.

 

            Though Louis had acted off at first, Harry thought things improved as the day went on. They got a lot of wedding stuff done, not just invitations, and Louis let him take him to dinner once they both decided to call it quits for the day.

            When they finally made it home, Louis said he felt gross and wanted to shower. As he heard the water turn on, Harry realized that he suddenly had to use the restroom. He could have gone into one of the extra bathrooms, but he kind of wanted a shower too and decided they could just shower together. Water preservation and all that. As he went to enter the bathroom, though, he found the door locked and frowned. Louis never locked the door when he was showering, always up for company in such situations. Harry supposed he could have just done it without realizing and was about to knock when he heard a deep, rough cough. He froze, fist still hovering in the air, and strained his ears to hear over the water. A few coughs came from the other side of the door, followed by a retching sound that sounded absolutely painful and, cringing, Harry pulled away from the door like it had just tried to bite him. For the first time ever, he wondered if he and Louis should be getting married after all.

 

            Louis was woken by the doorbell at nine in the morning and closed his eyes again after looking at the clock, deciding his fiancé could greet whoever dare come at this hour. The doorbell rang again.

            “Haz,” he groaned, moving his hand around blindly to poke the other guy. He was only met with cold sheets. “I hate everything,” Louis announced to the universe before throwing himself out of bed, head spinning slightly as he did so, and heading downstairs.

            “Liam,” he sighed when he opened the door because did this guy have something against Louis getting a full night/morning’s rest? But then Louis noticed the tears running down the younger guy’s face and his red puffy eyes and tugged him inside without another word.

            “What happened?” Louis asked. He had a fairly good idea of the answer, but he didn’t want to stick his foot in his mouth.

            “Zayn,” Liam choked and Louis led him to the kitchen table before he collapsed or something.

            “What about Zayn?” Louis asked once Liam no longer looked in danger of having some kind of fit.

            “He…he has…an…eating…an eating disorder.”

            Louis turned his next words over in his head, unsure of how aware of his own involvement in Zayn’s problem Liam was aware of.

            “Did he tell you this?”

            Liam nodded, swallowing hard before speaking.

            “Yeah. This morning. I could tell something was up, but he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. I made us breakfast and he just broke down and told me…”

            More tears filled Liam’s eyes and Louis wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be alright, but he knew that wouldn’t help at all, so he stayed silent until the younger guy was ready to continue.

“He’s been doing this for a while. He only eats when I’m around, apparently, but then he goes and he makes himself sick. He’s been like this for three years and I didn’t notice!”

            “Liam,” Louis said, voice serious as he tried to catch the other’s eye. “This isn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

            “I don’t know, Lou. I mean, I know I didn’t cause it, but I’ve let it continue! I didn’t do anything to help him get better!”

            “You didn’t know he was sick, Li.”

            “But I should have! He’s the love of my life and I should know when something’s wrong with him!”

            “It’s not that easy. He hid it really well and no one knew. I get that you feel guilty and that’s normal, but that won’t help Zayn. He didn’t tell you because he wanted you to feel guilty. He just wants help.”

            “But I don’t know how to help him!” Liam exclaimed, voice frantic now. “It’s not like he just has the flu or something. This is in his head and I don’t know what to do!”

            As Liam took a breath, Louis opened his mouth to say something, but Liam interrupted.

            “You went through this,” he said, eyes wide and sad. “And you overcame it. What do I do?”

            It was technically the truth. Louis had overcome his disorder, even though he’d relapsed. Healing was possible, and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall what had helped back then; what had saved him, if only for a little while.

            “Get him into therapy,” Louis said first because, while he’d never had therapy himself, he’d secretly longed for it and thought that it may have helped get rid of some of the negative feelings he’d have even when he was ‘recovered.’ “He may fight about it at first, but he’s reaching out for help now and as much as we love him, there are just some things we can’t do for him on our own.”

            Covering his face, Liam let out a little whimper and Louis continued quickly.

            “But that doesn’t mean you can’t do _anything_. He’ll need you too. I know you’re upset and confused, but just be there for him as someone to listen and support him.”

            “I thought I was,” Liam whined, face still covered.

            “You were,” Louis assured him. “And you are. He knows he can go to you about anything and he did, except this. But that’s just because he didn’t want to worry you.”

            That might not have been the whole truth, but explaining that Zayn had at first not wanted to get better; that he wanted the pain in some sick way, wouldn’t make him feel better at all.

            Liam was quiet for about a minute before speaking again, voice low and broken.

            “I can’t believe I let this happen to him.”

            “Liam, stop,” Louis said strictly, but counteracted that by getting up and going around the table to pull the younger boy into his arms. Liam clung to him and Louis felt his shirt getting wet with tears, but he didn’t care. Finally, Liam looked up at Louis, eyes red and guilt still written all over his face.

            “I was so terrible to you when you were sick,” he said.

            “No you weren’t.”

            “I acted like it was just something you were doing on purpose; like it was a choice. I didn’t understand why you couldn’t just put food down your throat without doing anything afterwards.”

            “Of course you didn’t understand,” Louis said. “It’s not something you can understand if you don’t have that problem. I didn’t want you to understand and neither does Zayn. He just wants your support.”

            “Of course I’ll support him,” Liam said, looking offended that that would ever be questioned. Then he added, “And you too.”

            Louis smiled, ruffling Liam’s hair.

            “Thank you,” he told him sincerely, “but I’m fine. Just focus on getting your man better, okay?”

            Liam nodded, standing up and pushing in the chair politely.

            “Thanks, Lou. Sorry I just came over like this. I just didn’t know what else to do or who to talk to…”

            “I’m glad you came over. I know Zayn needs your support most right now, but you need support too, so you know where I am if you need anything.”

            Liam smiled and while he was still teary, his eyes still shone in that genuine way that Louis could never understand. As he left, Louis knew deep down that Zayn would be okay. Not right away, of course, but he’d get there. He had someone who loved him unconditionally, whether he gained a few pounds or not.

 

            Tour rehearsals started a couple weeks after that and Zayn did seem to be getting better. Louis knew it would be a long process still, but he had more energy than he’d had in a while, dancing around with Niall in between songs and coming up with some ideas for choreography himself. Louis may have almost cried with pride when they took a lunch break and Zayn ate his cheese crackers without running to the bathroom afterwards.

            The day after he’d told Liam about his problem, Zayn had let the others boys know also, so, while Louis was glad Zayn was recovering, he was also happy that the guys were too busy casually keeping an eye on the second oldest band member to notice that he wasn’t eating.

            Or so he thought.

            “Hey, Lou, are you hungry?” Liam asked about halfway through the break and Louis’ stomach dropped. “I’m about to run to that sandwich shop around the block to get something and I can pick something up for you too.”

            “No, thanks,” Louis said, smiling to hide his panic.

            “Do you want some cheese crackers?” Zayn offered. “Liam went a little overboard and I think there’s enough for a starved football team in here.”

            Liam shrugged and blushed, embarrassed, and Louis winked at him before turning back to Zayn.

            “No thanks, Z. You need to eat.”

            “So do you.”

            Louis glared, but Zayn didn’t flinch. His expression was hard, but there were cracks of worry too.

            “I’m fine,” Louis said before walking out through the emergency exit. Zayn came out soon after.

            “Are you mad at me?” he asked.

            “No,” Louis said, turning to face the other guy and trying to keep his own face soft. “Why would I be?”

            “I know I was the one you felt like you could talk about this stuff with and I don’t want you to think that’s changing just because I’m trying to recover.”

            “No, of course not. I’m happy for you, Z.”

            “You sure?”

            Zayn looked on the verge of tears, so instead of saying something that probably wouldn’t assure him anyway, Louis just hugged him.

 

            One thing Louis knew he had to do before the tour started was visit his mother and siblings. For the first time ever, he was dreading it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them, but his mom always seemed able to pick up on when something was wrong, and Louis knew the stress his disorder put on her before, and he wasn’t looking forward to doing that to her again.

            “Lou’s here!” Louis heard one of the kids yell as he got out of the car and soon, he was met with an armful of Phoebe.

            “Hey, Phoeb,” he said with a smile that was also a little pained due to the weight he was holding up. When had he gotten to the point that he could barely hold his younger sister?

            Phoebe soon set herself back on the ground and led him inside by the hand. He was immediately met with about a thousand hugs and a slur of voices jumbled together, and he laughed.

            “You lot are a little too happy to see me,” he announced. “What’s going on?”

            “We just missed you, dear,” his mom said, stealing her third hug from him. He laughed as he patted her on the back and then rolled his eyes when she pulled back and had tears in her eyes.

            “Lunch is almost ready,” she said hurriedly. “Where’s Harry?”

            “He’s just getting back from visiting his family this afternoon. He sends his love, though.”

            “Oh, poo. Well I’m glad my baby boy made it home at least.”

            “Mum!” Louis gasped in horror as she ruffled his hair like she did when he was small. She and his sisters laughed, but then Lottie remembered the food cooking and rushed off with her mother. Louis was then led over to the television to watch something with the older twins until they were called to the table. As they began the descent, Louis’ heart started to race, making him a little bit dizzy. He knew there was absolutely no way he could force himself to eat something that he knew would have so many calories around so many people, but he also knew he wasn’t going to get away without it easily.

            “Lou, plates are right here,” Lottie said as Louis skipped the food line and took a spot at the table. “I know you’re the famous one here but I refuse to serve you food.”

            “Well, fine, see if I leave you any of my millions then,” Louis teased.

            “Aren’t you eating?” his mother asked, a knowing look already in her eyes. Louis shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

            “I ate before I came, mum.”

            “Yes, but it’s a few hours’ drive. You’ve got to be hungry by now.”

            “Not really. All I did was sit in a car.”

            She stared at him and Louis forced a smile.

            “It really does smell delicious though. I’ll eat some before I leave tonight.”

            Lips forming a tight line, the woman just nodded. Lottie seemed to be the only one who suspected anything, looking curiously between her brother and mom suspiciously. The other girls piled food onto their plates without a care in the world. Louis thought he was off the hook, though, and kept himself in good spirits while he talked to the girls. Of course, he was wrong.

            “Girls, go upstairs,” their mother ordered them a little while after lunch. “I want to talk to Louis for a few minutes.”

            “But we’re playing chess!” Daisy argued, which was a bit of a lie. They had the chess board out, but Louis was pretty sure the game had turned to something else when Daisy insisted that the horse could indeed rampage the other player and bite the queen’s head off.

            “You can continue your game in a little while. Please, it’s just for a few minutes.”

            “Yeah, come on,” Lottie said and Louis felt completely and utterly betrayed. “You lot look a mess. I’ll braid your hair if you come upstairs.”

            And just like that, every single one of his sisters betrayed him to follow Lottie upstairs. Reluctantly, Louis joined his mom on the couch.

            “What’s wrong, baby?” she asked and Louis held in a groan.

            “Nothing’s wrong, mum. Everything’s fine.”

            “Don’t lie to me, Louis.”

            “I’m not lying!”

            “Baby, I’m worried about you. You’re skin and bones.”

            That actually made Louis snort.

            “Am not.”

            “You are! And it’s the fact that you don’t see that that worries me most!”

            “Mum, you don’t need to worry, alright? I’m totally healthy.”

            “Louis, I sat back and did nothing last time and I’m not doing that again.”

            “Last time what?”

            “Last time you were sick…with your eating disorder.”

            “Mother!” Louis said, seriously trying to sound amused while his insides were shriveling with fear and guilt. “I don’t have an eating disorder. I’m older, I’ve lost baby fat. That’s it.”

            “You never had baby fat, Lou.”

            _Great, it was just regular fat then._

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted. “I’m not sick but I can’t make you believe that if you don’t want to.”

            “Of course I want to believe you! Do you think I _want_ you to have to go through that again?”

            “Well, I’m not, so…”

            “Then eat something for me, baby, please?”

            Anger rose up in Louis then. He knew his mom was just worried, but he shouldn’t have to prove anything to her.

            “I’m not hungry,” he said flatly. The tears that started running down the woman’s face only made him angrier. “What?!” he demanded. “What is it?!”

            “Please, Louis, don’t do this.”

            “I’m not doing anything! You’re the one making a big deal out of the fact that I am not hungry and that I’m not going to force feed myself to make you happy!”

            “I just want you to be happy and healthy…”

            “I am! I’m bloody perfect! And I’m really sick of everyone just waiting for me to fail because I used to be stupid!”

            “You’re not stupid. It’s an illness and we can get you help.”

            “I don’t need help!”

            Louis realized then that his voice had risen and he was pretty sure his sisters were listening from upstairs.

            “Louis,” his mom tried again. “I know what Mark said, but it’s not true. You-”

            “This isn’t about Mark! Or anybody! Or anything!”

            Louis grew dizzy and realized that he had stood up. His mom was saying something again, but he couldn’t hear over the roar in his ears and without another word, he turned and exited the house on shaky legs.

            Once in his car, he took a few breaths, just enough to prevent himself from throwing up or passing out, and then drove away.

 

            “What are you doing home so early?” Harry asked from his laying position on the bed when Louis had stormed up to their room to kick off his shoes and throw himself onto the bed as well.

            “Missed you,” Louis murmured, scooting closer to his fiancé and showering him with kisses. Harry moved his lips lazily, but when Louis’ hand moved up his leg to his crotch, he grabbed onto it, kissing him once more before saying,

            “Not now, babe. ‘M tired…”

            Louis cried himself to sleep on the couch that night.                  

            He woke up feeling guilty again, this time for leaving his mother and sisters without a goodbye and, of course, for making his mom cry. He wanted to eat, to prove that he was fine, but eating would give him one more thing to feel guilty about, so he opened the texts from Harry that he’d screenshot and quickly lost that desire.

            The next day, Louis decided to accept the idiot of the year award and visit Nick again.

            “Have you talked to Harry recently?” Louis asked as he sat at Nick’s kitchen table, the older guy staring at him in confusion.

            “Yeah, all the time,” Nick answered. _Of course._

            “Has he mentioned me?”

            “Yes…”

            “Has he mentioned…you know…my weight or anything?”

            “Louis, let’s not talk about this.”

            “Please.”

            Nick sighed, taking a seat across from the singer and looking directly in his eyes.

            “Harry is stupid and blind to not see how beautiful you are, just how you are.”

            “So I’m still not what he wants,” Louis verified, heart crumbling. He knew he still had some work to do, but he thought Harry would at least appreciate what he’d done so far.

            “He’s wrong,” Nick said, touching Louis’ hand. Louis almost pulled away, but he just didn’t have the energy. “You’re gorgeous,” the older guy continued. “You’re so gorgeous, Lou, and I’m sorry he doesn’t see that.”

            In the next instance, Nick was leaned across the table, lips seeking Louis’, and Louis sat back so fast that he tipped the chair backwards and sent himself tumbling to the floor.

            “What in the fucking hell?!” he nearly screeched as he got back to his feet. “What was that?!”

            “I love you, Louis,” Nick said, eyes wide and sad. “I have for a while and I just want you to see what I see when I look at you.”

            “You’re nuts,” Louis said before running out, amazed that he did, in fact, still have some energy after all.

            Harry sent him a text on his way home again and Louis almost didn’t look, but his masochistic tendencies got the best of him and he opened it with trembling fingers.

            _Where are you, babe? Hopefully not getting breakfast.. ;) X_

Louis threw his phone out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am aware that you guys probably want to kill me right now, but everything will be explained in due time :)


	7. Chapter 7

            Harry wasn’t going to try to be romantic anymore.

            Okay, maybe that was a little bit of a lie. He was a natural hopeless romantic and so he probably wouldn’t be able to quit that part of him easily, but he was going to try. Recently, it seemed that every attempt at romance had made things worse on Louis and, subsequently, their relationship. Wedding planning had scared Louis into purging and now, that morning, he’d sent the older man into a breakdown over a simple breakfast.

            Louis had been gone when he woke up, but the note he’d left said he’d be home soon and Harry had woken a little later than usual, so he suspected his fiancé would be home any time. The two had no obligations for the day, and so Harry prodded downstairs to make the two a nice breakfast. Harry was unsure as to how often Louis was actually purging these days, but planned to distract him after they ate with a work-out of their own. After that, they would shower together, then make hot chocolate and watch Christmas movies, even though it was March. The hot chocolate was negotiable if Louis seemed uncomfortable, but Harry figured a healthy salad for lunch could make up for that. Yes, it was going to be a good day.

            Their meal was almost ready and Louis had yet to arrive home, which made the younger fiancé panic just a little. Louis hadn’t told him where he went. What if his plans for the day were somewhat like Harry’s? Louis would never cook, but what if he’d decided to get them some breakfast from somewhere?

            Quickly, Harry sent a message to Louis asking where he was and hinting, as long as it wasn’t too late, to not get breakfast. Louis didn’t reply, but he arrived home a few minutes later, slamming the door behind him. The smile that had taken place on Harry’s face quickly turned to a frown and he rushed to meet his fiancé, who was already storming upstairs.

            “Lou!” Harry called, hurrying over to place a hand on the smaller guy’s shoulder. He whipped around and, while he wasn’t actually crying yet, his eyes were wet and red, like a breakdown was just a moment away. “Boo, what’s wrong?”

            “Do I smell food?!” Louis demanded and Harry cocked his head, confused, but answered,

            “Yes, I made us breakfast…”

            “Why?”

            “Because I was hungry and thought you might be too…”

            “No, why are you doing this to me?!”

            “Doing _what_ to you?”

            Rolling his eyes, Louis pulled away from Harry and continued his descent upstairs. Clearly, this was not going to be a good day after all.

 

            Harry hoped that once the tour started, whatever was bothering Louis would be forgotten in the chaos that was their lives, but it wasn’t. He ate a little more than he had been previously so he could have some energy onstage, but usually as soon as the show was over, Louis would exit the stage and head right for the bathroom, despite the fact that everything he’d eaten had either been digested or burned off onstage. He wasn’t even trying to hide his problem anymore and Harry honestly didn’t know if that was good or bad; if it was a cry for help or he just didn’t care anymore. As always, the younger guy was at a loss for what to do, which seemed to be the actual story of his life these days. He was there for Louis. He’d hold him once he was done relieving himself of all nourishment, but he soon realized that made it seem like he didn’t care that he was doing that to himself, so he began telling him that he shouldn’t be doing that; didn’t need to do that, but then that would cause a fight. He asked Liam for ideas and he tried to help, but the difference between Zayn and Louis was that Zayn was actually trying and meeting Liam halfway. When Harry did what Liam suggested; when he held Louis tight and asked why felt like he did, Louis would pull away and say he wanted to be left alone. When he could tell Louis was having an exceptionally hard time eating, he fixed him something lighter, showering him with compliments on how well he was doing, but Louis wasn’t _actually_ doing well and that would usually lead to a fight as well. When he’d given up on those methods and asked for Zayn’s perspective, Zayn told him sadly that Louis had to _want_ to get better. So, pretty much, Harry felt like everything he’d come to know about Louis and their relationship was falling apart.

            But he refused to give up just yet.

            “What do I do, Lou?”

            His voice came out in a whisper despite the fact that it was early afternoon and everyone was awake and off doing their own thing. Louis and Harry had stayed on the bus and Harry was eternally grateful for the bit of privacy. Louis was sitting on the floor, back against the couch, playing some video game all by himself and Harry was curled up on said couch, just staring down at his fiancé’s head.

            At the sound of the other’s voice, Louis paused his game and turned his body to face the boy.

            “What are you talking about, Harry?”

            “I want to help you, Louis. I just don’t know how.”

            His voice sounded pathetic even to him, all tired and worn sounding, and he knew that it had nothing to do with the singing almost every night.

            “Well,” Louis snapped, and the fierceness of his voice for some reason sent Harry into a sitting position, sensing conflict already. “If you would stop pointing out how fat I am, that would be absolutely lovely and probably help a bit.”

            “What are you talking about?” Harry asked, deep frown on his face as he tried to recall saying anything that would even remotely imply that he thought anything of the sort.

            “Don’t play dumb, Harry. You don’t pull it off well.”

            “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m sorry if I’ve ever said or done anything that caused you to think I felt that way, but I don’t!”

            “How are your text messages _supposed_ to make me feel, Harry?”

            “What texts, Lou?”

            “Oh, just the ones that tell me I don’t need to eat or that I’ve gained too much weight or something of the sort!”

            “I’ve never sent you a text like that, Lou…”

            “Bullshit! I have them right here!”

            Louis grabbed his phone from its spot on the floor and scrolled around until he came across what he wanted and shoved it in Harry’s face. Harry took the phone, eyes widening as he saw the message in front of him.

            “When did you get this?” he asked.

            “That one is from when you were in LA and I was home with the flu. Don’t you remember? And the next one is from the day we celebrated our anniversary, while I was at the store. Or, actually, once I was driving home.”

            “Louis, Jesus, I never ever sent anything like this!”

            Bringing out his own phone, Harry scrolled until he found the right dates in his and Louis’ messages (he had a bad habit of not deleting texts) and handed it to his fiancé.

            “See? There’s nothing like that on my phone.”

            “What about the last one? When you said you were hoping I don’t get breakfast and then I came home to a god damn five course meal!”

            Suddenly, Harry wanted to smash his head into a brick wall.

            “I didn’t want you to get breakfast because I was already making it, Lou. Not because you…don’t need it or whatever. God, I’m an idiot, but you should have known I didn’t mean it like _that_ , babe.”

            “And that one time I came home from my mum’s early and you were too grossed out by me to even have welcome home sex.”

            Make that two brick walls.

            “I wasn’t grossed out by you. I was tired and had a headache. I didn’t know it would hurt your feelings, babe. I’m sorry.”

            “It didn’t,” Louis said with a slight shrug as he turned his eyes to his lap. After a few deadly silent moments, he looked back up and spoke again. “If you’re not the one sending these messages, then how am I getting them from your number?”

            “I have no idea, but I would _never_ talk to you like that! How could you even believe that?!”

            Pursing his lips, Louis turned silently back to his video game. Harry wanted to cry. He had no idea if Louis believed now that he hadn’t sent those messages or not, but the fact that he believed him capable of sending them in the first place really hurt. He’d given Louis everything he could and always did his best to make sure he was happy. He told Louis every chance he got how beautiful he was and how much he loved him.

            Or at least he used to. With a pang of guilt, Harry realized that it had actually been a while since he’d greeted Louis with a ‘good morning, handsome’ and a kiss and it had been too long since he’d let Louis fall asleep to the sound of his voice as he went on and on about how lucky he was to have him in his life.

            Still, while he should have been doing those things, he also thought that Louis shouldn’t have to be reminded constantly. Apparently he did, though, and Harry vowed to himself that he would work on that.

            Another thing plaguing Harry’s mind was, of course, who _was_ actually sending those messages? And how? And why? Who could do that to his boy?

 

            They were about to go onstage the next night and were all ready, except they couldn’t find Louis. It all felt too familiar and Harry shook a little as he let himself into the bathroom backstage. Immediately, he spotted Louis’ legs under the stall, but the older boy hadn’t even closed the door to it. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide.

            “Louis,” Harry said sadly, putting a hand on the back of his fiancé’s neck. Either he hadn’t made himself sick yet or he’d already flushed the evidence, but either way, it was clear that Louis was not okay. He had his elbows on the toilet seat, covering his face with his hands as his frail body shook with the force of his sobs. “What happened?” Harry asked. He didn’t know if it was even the correct question to be asking, but something in his gut told him it was.

            “I got another text,” Louis said miserably and Harry almost saw red.

            “What’d it say, baby?”

            After hesitating for only a moment, Louis brought his hands down and licked his lips, opening his mouth to speak before shaking his head and handing his phone to Harry so he could read it himself. This time, the number was anonymous, and the words sent chills and white-hot anger through Harry all at the same time.

            _I may not be Harry, but I haven’t said anything he hasn’t said before._

Again, _how_ went through Harry’s head, but as he heard a gag, he realized that wasn’t important. The important thing was that it _had_ happened, and it was killing the most precious thing he had in his life.

            “Louis, no,” Harry snapped, grabbing the other’s thin wrist and pulling it away from his mouth. Louis looked up at him, tears pouring out of his eyes. “You don’t need to do this,” Harry continued, because the way Louis was looking at him made him feel that he may actually listen to him right at this moment and he had to think fast while also not screwing everything up. “You’re beautiful; always have been and always will be. But that’s not even why I love you. You could have a completely new face, a whole different body, and I’d still love you. I’ve never said anything negative about you, Louis, not even in my head, and I don’t know who’s doing this or why, and I know it hurts, but none of it is true. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

            Louis nodded, tears finally slowing, and rose slowly to his feet, Harry ready to catch him if he lost his balance. The older boy went to the sink to wash off his hands and arms and Harry stayed behind, watching silently, dying to know what was going on in that head he loved so much, until Louis half-dried himself off and then threw himself against Harry, who held onto him as tight as he could without feeling like he was breaking him.

            “I love you,” Louis finally replied, and Harry had to swallow multiple times so as not to cry.

            Eventually, Niall found them, saying that he just wanted to make sure everything was okay when, in reality, Harry knew he was probably sent to drag them onstage.

            Louis was quickly whisked away to get his make-up touched up and Harry was admittedly a little bitter that their lovely make-up artist was the only one besides the boys to ask if Louis was okay.

            The three others joined Liam, who was onstage, trying and succeeding to entertain and stall the crowd, though they refused to perform without Louis, so it just turned into a Niam banter until the oldest member hopped on out.

            “Ah, there’s the diva,” Niall teased, though there was obvious worry in his eyes as he looked at his friend. Louis gave him a smile, walking by Harry to take his spot and brushing their hands together gently as he did so. Harry wanted to be hopeful. These were good signs, but it seemed that every time he thought things were getting better, they quickly became ten times worse.

 

            “Did you…you know…in the bathroom before the show?”

            Harry and Louis were finally walking back to the bus, the last ones to do so, and it was late enough that they didn’t even need security. Or, even if they did, security had given up and left already anyway.

            “No,” Louis said. “I couldn’t. There’s nothing left…”

            “You need to eat,” Harry said, kissing Louis’ forehead. Then, taking his hand, he walked up the bus steps with him. Once inside, Harry made him a turkey sandwich and got him a water bottle, handing them to him with pleading eyes.

            “Haz…,” Louis said weakly, even as he accepted the plate.

            “Please,” Harry said softly. Reluctantly, Louis ripped off a small piece of the sandwich and brought it up to his lips with shaky fingers, pausing before popping it into his mouth and chewing more times than necessary before swallowing.

            “Thank you,” Harry said, placing a kiss on Louis’ lips before taking a seat at the small table a bit away. Zayn came out from the bunks about ten minutes later, and although he had no idea how much time had passed for Louis to not be even half done with the sandwich, he seemed to pick up on the struggle so, after grabbing his leftover take-out from the fridge, he curled up on the couch next to Louis and laid his head on the other singer’s shoulder as they ate. As much as Harry wanted to stay and make sure Louis finished his food, he decided to leave the two alone and went to collapse on his and Louis’ bunk, hoping Louis didn’t decide to come back before the tears on his cheeks had time to dry.

 

            Louis desperately wanted to believe Harry and the feeling in his own gut that told him Harry wasn’t the one sending those texts, but a small part of him still wasn’t sure. In the least, Harry probably agreed with them, despite his words. He had to admit, though, that Harry did seem genuinely concerned about him and thought he was trying to be helpful and understanding. Still, Louis did get a form of sick pleasure at how he’d finally reduced the guy to tears when he’d stood too fast one day and collapsed. He pushed that feeling away quickly, feeling terrible about himself afterwards. He shouldn’t _like_ making those pretty green eyes cry. His job was to comfort and protect, not to hurt, so while he knew that he wasn’t getting better, not this time, he decided to pretend and to pretend better than he ever did before.

 

            Soon, the boys were home, having a few days off to do what they pleased. The first day, Louis surprised Harry with donuts and even ate lunch and dinner. Plus, he spent all day with the other guy, never once running off to purge. Louis hadn’t seen Harry smile so much in a long, long time.

            Louis started his new ‘routine’ the next day. He would wake up early, before Harry was even in the realm of stirring, go on a run and then wash up quietly in one of the guest bathrooms’ sinks before slipping back into bed and snuggling close to his fiancé. Once they both woke up, they would eat breakfast, and then Louis would go to shower. He would also use that time to purge when he could (which was whenever Harry didn’t want to join him.) After lunch, he would eventually find some alone time to do sit-ups and then would purge again after dinner, while he got ready for bed. It was, indeed, a flawed plan, and he let himself get caught a couple of times because an over-night recovery was too suspicious, but Harry became assured that Louis was getting better, and he was happy. Louis gained a little weight because he was still eating more than he had been and had to wait longer in between meals before purging or exercising, thus absorbing more of the food, but he was still less disgusting than when he would allow himself to eat pizza, pasta, cookies and the other things his body just couldn’t handle without ‘punishing’ himself afterwards.

            During the break, Louis and Harry took their families out to dinner. Louis had sent his mom an apology text, but hadn’t talked to her since the fight other than that. He learned from Lottie that the woman had explained Louis’ behavior by claiming he didn’t feel well and she was being too protective and pushy as she tended to do. Louis felt terrible that his mom was blaming herself, but went along with her excuse because what else could he do? He was excited for the dinner, though, because he was convinced he would prove to her that everything was alright and she could relax (which he knew she hadn’t done since that day.)

            Sure enough, as soon as Louis and Harry walked into the restaurant, holding hands, and she laid eyes on her son, her face lit up. Louis tried to remind himself that that was a good thing.

            “Hi, Louis,” she said in a soft voice as she drew him into her arms, causing him to let go of his fiancé’s hand and hold onto her back instead.

            “Hey, mum,” he said, speaking loud enough for only her to hear. “I’m sorry.”

            “I know, baby. Me too.”

            “I was sick,” he admitted because, for some reason, it seemed like the right thing to do. “But I’m getting better now. I promise.”

            Pulling away from her son, Jay smiled, pride shining in her eyes. Louis wished it would go away. He wanted her to be happy, but not proud. He didn’t deserve that.

            Louis knew he couldn’t sneak off to the bathroom after their meal, so he ordered one of the least fattening options he could without going to the ‘diet’ menu, and ate just enough to appease his fiancé and mom. Harry kept one hand on his knee the whole time, squeezing it assuredly every time he sensed anxiety in Louis, and for the first time, Louis did feel like he wanted it to be like this all the time. He wanted to get better.

            But one look in the mirror once he finally got home showed him that he shouldn’t always let himself get what he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah. More drama for now. I'm sorry, I'm really bad at writing happy XD
> 
> Also, I know I said the 'how' isn't important, but you guys will still find out how before this over. :) Alright, I'll stop rambling.


	8. Chapter 8

            Three blissful weeks went by. Three weeks where, despite the fact that his eating habits were far from ‘healthy,’ Louis still felt almost normal. Three weeks without a stupid text message from his unknown bully. But then it happened again.

            It didn’t come from an anonymous number this time. It came from Harry’s again, and Louis was tempted to break his new phone as well.

            _You need to cut back on carbs, babe. I know we’re getting married on the beach but I don’t really want to marry a whale._

“You know I didn’t send that?” Harry asked, face pale, when Louis showed him later, and the thing was, Louis actually did. There was no way his fiancé could ever be _that_ cruel, even if Louis was chubby.

            _Not chubby_ , that incessant voice in Louis’ head screamed at him later that night as he got ready for bed in the hotel bathroom. _Not chubby. Fat. Huge. Obese. Ugly. Disgusting._

With a soft whine, Louis squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off the nausea that rose in him all on its own, but when it did finally go away, Louis realized that he needed it back. He needed to pay for letting himself get that way.

            He didn’t know when exactly he’d started crying, but he wiped his eyes furiously before slamming open the toilet seat and dropping hard to his knees, shoving two fingers down his throat and not caring if Harry heard which, of course, he did.

            Louis hadn’t locked the door, or even closed it all the way, and Harry let himself in, cursing quietly under his breath before rushing to Louis’ side and rubbing his back soothingly.

            When he’d finished, Louis flushed the toilet and leaned back against the tub, eyes shut again. This time, he didn’t feel better at all, physically or mentally.

            “Lou?” Harry said, brushing a thumb across Louis’ cheek softly. “Was that on purpose?”

            “I’m sorry, Haz,” Louis sighed after only a moment’s hesitation, having no energy to lie right then.

            “You don’t have to apologize, boo,” Harry said and Louis opened his eyes to meet Harry’s sad ones. “I know these things happen and it’s not your fault. Don’t get mad at me when I say this, Louis, please, but I think you need to talk to someone about this. Like, a therapist or something.”

            “No, Harry,” Louis said firmly. “I _need_ these text messages to stop.”

 

            The very next day, both Louis and Harry changed their numbers, but the texts didn’t stop. If anything, they got worse.

            “It must be someone who has both of our numbers,” Harry concluded. “I really don’t see any other way this could work.”

            Louis bit his lip, thinking. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know who exactly was sending him these texts, but he did want to be assured it wasn’t Harry and, more than anything, wanted them to stop, and he knew no other way but to find out the culprit behind them.

            “Do you ever talk to Nick about me?” Louis asked. Though he’d never been Nick’s biggest fan, and Nick was apparently a big enough ass to have sex with someone else’s drunk fiancé, this would be a new low, even for him. He had no other idea though. It was a new low for _anyone_ he associated with.

            “Uh…yeah, I used to when I actually talked to Nick, but I haven’t really been in contact with him since…you know…unless it was necessary.”

            “Oh.”

            “Why? Do you think he could be doing this?”

            “I don’t know. It’s just…I’ve been talking to him…”

            “What? Why?”

            “Because you wouldn’t tell me why you cheated-not the real reason-and I was desperate!”

            “Lou-”

            “Wait. That’s not the important part right now.”

            Harry disagreed, but sighed, waiting for Louis to continue.

            “He told me that you thought I’d gotten out of shape and such. He said he thought maybe the sexual attraction wasn’t there anymore.”

            “Louis, I never said anything like that.”

            “And he also said that you were wrong and that I was beautiful-”

            “Well, that _is_ true.”

            “-and that he’s in love with me.”

            “WHAT?!” Harry shrieked. Louis blinked at him, face blank, and the younger boy hurried to continue. “No, I mean, I can see why he _would_ be in love with you. You _are_ gorgeous, and funny, and nice and just…amazing. But…well…”

            “You thought it was you.”

            Harry paused, trying to find out what he could say that wouldn’t come out like an insult to Louis’ ears, but the blue-eyed guy just shook his head, an unamused smile on his face.

            “I did too,” he admitted. “I’m just telling you what he said.”

            “So…do you think he’s somehow sending these texts to make me out as the bad guy, thinking you’ll leave me and he’ll get his chance?”

            “I don’t know. Maybe.”

            Harry shook his head, rage bubbling up inside unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

            “I’ll take care of this, Lou. He’s not going to hurt you anymore.”

 

            “Hey, Styles. ‘Sup?”

            “Hey. You busy?”

            “I’ve always got time for you, kid.”

            “Right. Look, are you…”

            Harry paused, deciding to change how he dealt with this situation. He could ask Nick if he was the one sending those awful messages to Louis, but the conversation could easily be dropped with a simple lie.

            “You need to stop sending those messages to Louis,” he said instead. True, he had no proof that Nick actually was sending them, but if he turned out to be wrong, which he doubted, he figured Nick would forgive him. Not that he really cared if he did.

            “What messages?”

            Harry’s jaw tightened. Though the words were feigning innocence, the tone in which the other guy spoke them in was too smug to not be guilty.

            “You’re sick,” Harry said.

            “I love you, Haz.”

            “Don’t call me that.”

            “Just tell me what he’s got that I don’t.”

            Harry hesitated, not because he had to think about his answer, but because he was trying to figure out what game the other man was playing. He told Louis he loved him, while telling Harry that he was the one he wanted, and the younger guy didn’t understand any of it.

            “Harry?” Nick prodded.

            “Well, he’s a good person, for one,” Harry said.

            “But he’s sick, Harry.”

            “Yes, he’s sick, Nick, and a lot of it has to do with you!”

            “I’m not the one that cheated.”

            Harry grew silent, breath catching in his throat. The words cut deep. He knew what he did had taken its toll on Louis, but he didn’t want to believe all of this was because of one stupid, drunken mistake. He’d thought they’d moved on from it.

            “I’m sorry,” Nick said before Harry spoke again. “I’m not trying to say what’s wrong with Louis is your fault. He’s ill. It’s all him and he needs help.”

            “I know that. I know he needs help, but it’s not his fault.”

            “He can’t give you what you need, Harry. How can he love you when he can’t even love himself?”

            “Clearly, you don’t know how true love works.”

            “But I do. What he’s doing is hurting you and he doesn’t even do anything about it! He doesn’t care!”

            “Stop. Stop talking! You know nothing! Louis may be a little lost right now, but he’s still my Louis. I love him, he loves me and we’re getting married in just a few months. Louis is so amazing and I’ll always regret letting him forget that, but it’s not happening again. Leave him alone or I swear to God, you won’t like what happens.”

            Harry hung up, hoping his words didn’t sound like an empty threat because they weren’t. He didn’t know what he would do if Nick didn’t stop, but he’d do something; something he may not be entirely in control of.

            “Is it over?” Louis asked, voice unsteady, when Harry got back into the hotel room.

            “I hope so,” Harry sighed, crawling on top of the bed next to his fiancé. Louis lay down and Harry pulled him close. There was nothing either could think to say, so Harry just held him, trying to mend both of them with the contact.

            After that, the texts stopped for a while. That didn’t change the fact that they had happened, though, but Louis tried to get better, even though Harry knew how hard it was for him. He ate sometimes, never three meals a day and never much at one time, but he _did_ eat, and he hadn’t purged since about a week after Harry talked to Nick, at least to Harry’s knowledge. Obviously, he still had a long way to go, but Harry was proud; always proud.

            Louis had just started laughing-actually laughing again-when another text came. Harry didn’t know what this one said. Louis wouldn’t show him, but Harry wasn’t too concerned with specifics when Louis was crying his heart out on the bathroom floor.

            Literally shaking with rage, Harry went outside to call Nick again, but he didn’t answer. Harry decided the older guy was very lucky he was so far away.

           

            “What’s wrong, Tommo?”

            The boys were back on the bus, most asleep as they sped off to their next destination, but Louis, who couldn’t sleep (and hadn’t really tried) was up, sitting at the table and glaring at his pop tart like it had done him the wrongest of wrongs.

            At the sound of another’s voice, Louis looked up, soon meeting Liam’s eyes. The younger guy was half-smiling, though concern sparked his sleepy eyes.

            “Nothing,” Louis lied, and Liam gave him a look before sliding into the seat across from his friend.

            “Come on. Spill.”

            Louis sighed, resting his cheek against his fist and staring at a random spot on Liam’s shirt before speaking.

            “Nick texted me again. Like, one of _those_ texts.”

            Liam was quiet for just a moment too long, and when Louis looked up, Liam was looking at him with confusion on his face.

            “What?” Louis asked, wondering for a moment if they’d forgotten to tell Liam about their discovery.

            “When did he send you this?”

            “This morning.”

            Liam’s frown deepened and he gave a slight shake of his head, probably to himself, but Louis saw it and anger bubbled up inside of him.

            “Yes, Liam, he did! It’s on me phone! I’m not crazy! It wasn’t a hallucination!”

            “No, Lou, of course not. It’s just that…Nick got in a car accident yesterday. Didn’t you hear?”

            Louis frowned, wondering what exactly that had to do with this. “No…but apparently that didn’t cause him to have a life-changing personality make-over or anything.”

            “It was a pretty bad car accident. He’ll be okay, but he hasn’t woken up yet.”

            Louis stayed quiet, letting those words absorb, except they couldn’t. If what Liam was saying was true, then someone else had to have sent him that message earlier and maybe-probably-all of the others too.

            “Lou, come here,” Liam said as Louis began his walk back to the bunks, but he ignored him. Harry was still sound asleep, along with all of the other boys, and as Louis stared at his sleeping fiancé, he felt like whatever small part of his heart that had slowly begun to heal shattered again. Everything was a lie; had been for a while and maybe always had been.

            Instead of crawling next to his fiancé, Louis climbed up to the bunk on top of theirs, where Niall was snoring just slightly. There was an empty bunk he could have taken, but he didn’t really want to be alone right now; not when he may have actually been alone all along; in love with someone and living a relationship that was just in his head.

            “Huh?” the blonde snorted as he felt a body slide up next to his.

            “Sh, it’s okay. It’s just me,” Louis said.

            “Okay?” Niall asked, rubbing his eyes as he tried to pull himself from the land of sleep.

            “Yeah, everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

            Louis didn’t have to tell him twice, but before he drifted off again, he curled his arms around Louis and snuggled close, trying to comfort him even though he didn’t know what was wrong. Louis was uncomfortable at first, with Niall’s arms right across his flabby stomach, but he knew that, if any of the boys were going to care if he was in shape or not, Niall was the least likely, and so he soon let himself warm to the contact and drift off.

 

            Zayn took Louis out the next night. That was how Louis knew he must have been acting really pathetic because he knew Zayn would much rather be cuddling-or something-with his boyfriend back at the hotel, but instead, he was sneaking out past security and dragging Louis’ ass to a club. A very gay club, apparently.

            “Um…,” Zayn said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as some thin, but toned, guy ran in front of them to jump on a guy at the bar, both of them looking like they were about to get very intimate right there. The thin guy’s mesh shirt was soon on the floor. Back in the corner, some other questionable things were going on.

            “Wow, Zayn. I really didn’t think this was your style,” Louis said, a smile twitching the corners of his lips.

            “I’m going to kill Niall,” Zayn decided, and Louis actually did laugh.                

            “You didn’t do research before taking me somewhere that man suggested to you?”

            “No, I did not.”

            “Well, Zayn,” Louis said, touching his cheek gently. “Please, please watch your drink. You are much too pretty to be in a place like this.”

            “Yes, mother,” Zayn said before taking Louis’ hand and dragging him to the bar.

 

            As Louis had foreseen, Zayn was bought drinks all night. Louis was bought drinks too, but he thought just because people felt sorry for the not-as-attractive tag-along best friend. He took a couple of shots, but the calories felt heavy inside of him, so he ended up passing most of his drinks to Zayn, which he soon realized was a bad idea when he was stuck holding a broken stall door closed while Zayn vomited up the booze and probably a couple organs inside.

            “I hope you know that I hate you,” Louis spoke when there was a moment of silence.

            “I hate me too,” Zayn whined from the other side of the door.

            “Your boyfriend is going to kill me,” Louis sighed. The only reply he got was a gag and sputtering. “Gross,” Louis commented, though there was some fondness in his voice too. After a minute, he felt a tug at the door and let go, but Zayn simply flipped him off before slamming the door shut again. Louis giggled-legitimately giggled-and, being the good friend he was, went back to holding the cold, grimy, germy stall door. As he looked away, he made eye contact with a guy in the mirror above the sinks and smiled. It was obvious the guy had been looking at him, though for how long Louis didn’t know. He was cute; average height and build, light brown hair that was artfully messy, piercing gray eyes and full lips, and Louis decided to not be all that creeped out that he had been staring.

            “Everything okay?” the guy asked with a slight accent that Louis couldn’t quite place.

            “Yes. My friend here is just a lightweight,” Louis explained.

            “I know where you sleep, Tomlinson,” came a slurred voice, and Louis laughed.

            “You know, if you’re going to deal with that all night, I think you should be a little less sober yourself.”

            The guy had turned from the mirror and was now leaning against the sink suggestively.

            “I agree, but one of us has to remember the way back to safety,” Louis told him.

            “One or two more drinks won’t hurt,” the stranger reasoned. Then, “Hey, so that’s not your boyfriend in there, is it?”

            “What?! Him?! Nooooo. No, no, no.”

            Pretty boy got a weird smile and glint in his eyes, so Louis quickly added, “I’m engaged to someone else.”

            “Hm…guy or lady?”

            “Guy.”

            “Is he here?”

            “No…”

            “Good.”

            The guy walked closer, somewhat pinning Louis against the door and Louis had to admit he was a _little_ turned on and a lot flattered. He wasn’t going to do anything, of course, but it was nice to know that somebody still found him appealing.

            “I’m sorry. I can’t,” Louis said, a small smile still on his lips.

            “Come on, babe. I have no one to tell and I bet your friend in there won’t even remember.”

            “I’m faithful.”

            “There’s a first time for everything.”

            The stranger’s hand had found its way to Louis’ crotch and Louis promptly removed it.

            “I’m sorry, but, hey, you’re a good looking lad. I’m sure there’s someone for you out there on the dance floor; someone who you won’t have to take to the stall next to their best friend retching.”

            Right on cue, Zayn let out another gag from inside the stall and Louis cringed. The guy seemed unphased, though; only angry that Louis had turned him down.

            “Fine” he said, voice suddenly cold as he backed up. “You’re too scrawny for me anyway.”

            He left, leaving Louis to slam the back of his head against the door. Too scrawny? Too fat? What did people want from him?

            “Louis,” Zayn spoke, tugging on the door once again. Louis opened the door and the other guy fell into his arms. “I feel amazing.”

            “Sure you do, love,” Louis said, moving a sweaty strand of Zayn’s hair back to where he thought it belonged. “For the next two minutes at least.”

            “Let’s have another shot of rounds before we go.”

            “Shot of rounds?” Louis asked, hoping Zayn would notice the mistake in his sentence, but the darker haired guy just nodded eagerly. “Yeah, let’s not,” Louis said, dragging the younger man out of the club against his protests.

            On the way back to the hotel, Louis had the cab driver stop at McDonald’s, where he ordered almost enough food to fill up all five boys, and ate it on the drive back, ignoring Zayn’s words of,

            “Ew, that smell is making me nauseous, Lou. I think I’m pregnant. Liam and I aren’t ready for a baby yet, Lou!”

            Louis felt quite sick himself after eating all that food, but knew that his illness could be explained away by the tons of alcohol that wasn’t actually in his system.

            Dragging Zayn up to his room was going to be too much of a struggle-Louis could barely move himself-so he texted Liam to have him meet them outside, and Zayn giggled as he fell into his arms.

            “You’re really, pretty, Li-Li. I’m so glad you didn’t come. Someone would have stolen you away!”

            “Uh-huh. Sure. Let’s get you upstairs, yes?”

            “That was such a philosophical question, Lee-yum.”

            Liam shook his head in amusement as he hoisted Zayn up bridle-style and carried him to the elevators, holding the door open once there for slow-moving Louis. Once they reached their own floor, Liam said goodnight (Zayn was already unconscious and snoring rather unattractively) and Louis rode up to the next floor-his and Harry’s floor-alone. He sat outside of his door for a while, wishing he had let himself get drunk when he had the chance so he could maybe, for a little bit, forget about everyone’s expectations for him.

 

 

                                                                                                           


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, soooo a few things
> 
> 1) *Kind of spoiler but not really?* There will be a management guy named Tony mentioned in this chapter. I have no idea if there is a Tony that works for the boys or whatever, but if so, this Tony is not based on him. Once again, nothing in this story is true. It's just a product of my twisted mind. I'm sure the guys are much better, stable individuals than I portray them to be.
> 
> 2) Feel free to tell me of any and all mistakes in this chapter. I was/am (legally) medicated while writing/typing/proofing/posting and I've done my best to catch all of my errors (already caught a lot) but it is a high possibility that I missed some.
> 
> 3) There will be more notes at the end, but if you've stuck with this craziness this long, I thank you greatly. I don't say thank you all that often, and I'm sorry for that, but the support really does mean a lot to me :)

            All of the stress was finally getting to Liam. Zayn had been doing extremely well-even his therapist was surprised-but he picked up on all the little abnormalities in his eating methods now; the way he tore apart his food, shoving some of it away if there was too much breading, or dressing, or salt, or sometimes for reasons Liam didn’t know. Even with that, though, Zayn was deemed to be “in recovery” and no longer made himself sick, even when Liam could tell he was itching to, but it was still stressful, the fear of a relapse always in the back of his mind. It wasn’t just him, though. Liam was also worried about Louis, Harry, LouisandHarry, and even Niall because Liam worried about everyone and everything, and Niall had sneezed earlier, which, did that mean he was coming down with something? On top of that, they all had a very physically demanding schedule, and even though Liam loved his job and loved touring, he felt hot and crowded as everyone ran around prepping for the show that was set to start in an hour, so when Harry announced in a panicked voice that he couldn’t find his phone, Liam was more than happy to go look for it and get away from the main hustle bustle for just a few minutes.

            He didn’t search particularly fast, though he felt bad because Harry was probably stressing about it, but he found the phone fairly quickly anyway. He was on his way to the dressing room Harry had abandoned just a few minutes ago when he saw Tony, one of the several guys who worked for their management, off in the distance, doing something on what could only be Harry’s phone (unless someone else had a phone case of him and Louis, which…weird.)

            “Hey!” Liam called, picking up his pace as he headed towards Tony. The man’s head shot up, eyes widening as he saw the singer hurrying to him. He laid the phone down on a nearby box and hurried away. Liam debated for a moment on which way to go-towards the phone or Tony-but he didn’t know what he would do even if he caught up with Tony, so he went to the phone instead, confused. Why would he have had to use Harry’s phone?

            Almost as soon as the question formed in his head, a sick feeling took place in his gut. _No_ , Liam thought silently as he pressed the button on Harry’s phone only to find that it had been turned off.

 

            It was hard for Liam to act normal before and during the show and as soon as they were backstage for the final time, he dragged Harry to a spot where he thought they would have some privacy.

            “Ow, Liam. You’re hurting me, dude,” Harry commented.

            “Sorry,” Liam apologized, dropping his hands from the tops of the other guy’s shoulders.

            “‘S okay. Is everything alright?”

            “Um…yes? No? I don’t know. You know how I said I found your phone in the dressing room?”

            “Yes.”

            “That was a kind of a lie.”

            Harry raised an eyebrow and Liam realized he needed to continue, so he told Harry what he’d seen, albeit through a lot of stuttering and stammering. Harry was rightfully upset, and reluctantly called Louis over to tell him. Louis looked on the verge of tears, but held strong. All of them knew that they didn’t really have a way to prove that Tony was the actual culprit, but Louis agreed to let Liam keep his phone that night, just in case a text came. When it didn’t, Liam wasn’t quite sure if he was relieved or not.

 

            “Nothing came,” he announced, trying to sound cheerful when he met up with the engaged couple the next day, but as he tried to hand Louis his phone, the older boy shrank away from it like it had done him bodily harm, which, in a way, Liam supposed it had.

            “I don’t want it,” Louis said, eyes on the floor. “Please, will you just keep it? At least for now?”

            Of course, Liam wasn’t going to say no.

 

            The boys got to stay in a hotel again that night and Liam was in the bathroom, just emerging from a much-needed hot shower, when he heard a knock on the bathroom door.

            “Can I come in?” his boyfriend asked.

            “Yeah, it’s unlocked.”

            Zayn opened the door and then closed it behind him again as he went to silently take a seat on the closed toilet, drawing his knees up to his chin and staring into space.

            “You feeling okay, babe?” Liam asked, staring worriedly at the other man as he pulled on some pants. He didn’t receive an answer.

            “Zayn!” Liam snapped, waving a hand in front of the guy’s face once he was dressed. “What’s wrong?”

            Zayn swallowed, moving his eyes up slowly to meet his boyfriend’s.

            “Louis got a text,” Zayn said.

            “Did you read it?”

            Zayn nodded and Liam ran to grab the phone from where Zayn had left it sitting on the bed.

            There wasn’t much depth to the text. It was basically just a string of insults, but Liam knew from experience that words hurt and the fact that it was an anonymous number again instead of Harry’s wouldn’t really matter in the long run. Liam was really, _really_ glad that Louis hadn’t seen it.

            But Zayn had.

            “This wasn’t for you,” he stated, though that was obvious. He just felt like he needed to verify that Zayn wasn’t taking any of this personally.

            “I know, but who would send that to Louis? He’s none of the things he’s been called, and why would someone hurt him like that? What’s that point?”

            “I have no idea.”

            “Do you really think Tony could be behind this?”

            “I don’t know. I hope not.”

            “Grimmy?”

            Liam just shrugged, putting Louis’ phone back on the nightstand and taking Zayn into his arms, lowering them both onto the bed.

            “Well find out what’s going on and put a stop to it, though, babe. I promise.”

            Zayn just hummed in contentment, resting his head on Liam’s chest as he ran a finger over his abs lovingly. The moment was ruined seconds later when Liam’s stomach gave a deep growl.

            “Damn it,” Liam groaned, putting a pillow over his face. Zayn laughed.

            “Hungry, darling?”

            “I’m fine,” Liam mumbled. Zayn gently removed the pillow from his boyfriend’s face to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

            “I’ll go get us something from the vending machine, yeah?”

            Liam nodded and Zayn gave him another kiss before climbing off the bed and exiting the room. Liam expected him to get his usual Chex Mix (it was less fattening than other vending machine snacks), but when Zayn returned, he had a package of cookies. He handed three to Liam and kept one to himself, and Liam smiled, wondering if he’d really made it that obvious that he was getting really tired of the Chex Mix and other healthy crap he’d forced own his throat in his attempt at support.

 

            “Liam.”

            Liam turned, coming face-to-face with Harry, who had a worried expression on his face.

            “Has Louis gotten a text yet?” the younger guy asked.

            “Yeah,” Liam sighed, running a nervous hand through his hair.

            “I want to see.”

            “I don’t think you do.”

            Harry stared, and something about the look in his eyes unsettled the other guy, so with another sigh, Liam reached into his pocket, found Louis’ phone and handed it to the oldest member’s fiancé. Liam expected anger. Anger would make perfect sense in this situation. What he didn’t expect was for Harry’s face to fall, shoulders to slump and tears full of defeat to start falling from his eyes as he threw the phone back to Liam like a hot potato, Liam just barely keeping it from crashing to the ground.

            “I’m going to kill whoever is sending these,” Harry said, but his voice was soft.

            “I know you want to, but you can't. But we’ll find out who it is and find out some way to stop it. We-”

            “Hey, lads.”

            At the sound of Louis’ falsely chipper voice, Liam shut his mouth, lips forming a tight line. Louis came from behind him to stand next to Harry, wrapping his arms around his waist.

            “I got another text, didn’t I?”

            It wasn’t _really_ a question.

            “We’re going to put an end to this,” Harry said, trying to sound confident.

            “Can I see it?”

            “That’s…not a good idea,” Liam interjected and Louis’ face twisted a bit in anger.

            “It’s _my_ phone.”

            “I know, but I really don’t want you to see this. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

            “You know,” Louis snapped, letting go of Harry to cross his arms tight over his chest, “it’s not your guys’ job to protect me.”

            “We just want you to get better, Lou, and you don’t need to see this untrue bullshit.”

            “I already have. Nothing is getting better now, and it sure as hell can’t get worse, so give me my phone, Liam!”

            “No.”

            With a huff, Louis turned sharply on his heel and stormed away. With something that sounded a lot like a growl, Harry stormed away too, going the opposite direction.

 

            “Tony!”

            Harry hadn’t really been aware of where his legs were taking him, but he soon found himself approaching his newest suspect and his heart rate picked up to dangerous levels.

            “Hello, Harry!” Tony said with a smile at his youngest One Direction moneymaker. Harry didn’t return the smile, instead getting all up in the older man’s personal space, glare set deep on his own face.

            “Have you been sending messages to my fiancé?”

            “Messages?” Tony asked, smile turning to a frown. Harry couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not.

            “Yes. Messages. Texts. Bad texts.”

            “Bad texts…?”

            “Yes.”

            “No…the only time I sent Louis a message of any kind is when it’s work related and, usually, you all get the exact same thing.

            “From _you_ , yes. But these have been coming from my phone, and a couple from an anonymous number.”

            “Harry…why would I be texting your fiancé from your phone?”

            “Well, I don’t know! What were you doing with my phone the other day?”

            Tony’s eyes rolled back, like he was trying to remember something, before realization dawned on him.

            “You left it in the dressing room,” he said. “I was just holding onto it to keep it safe.”

            “That’s bull!”

            Harry’s hands were in tight fists at his side then and Tony glanced at them in concern.

            “Are you alright, Harry? I know you’ve been pretty stressed lately…”

            “You better leave Louis alone,” Harry said, choosing to walk away before doing anything that could potentially get him into deep trouble.

            “Wait!” Tony called, and the singer slowed, but didn’t turn. “Should we be concerned with these…messages?”

            “You should,” Harry said harshly. “But you won’t be.”

 

            Harry was exhausted, but couldn’t sleep. The spot next to him in the bunk was empty, as it had been the past couple of nights, but instead of Louis simply choosing to sleep with Niall again (Harry wasn’t going to ask), he was outside of the parked bus, also unable to catch any rest. He shouldn’t be alone, Harry realized. When he was alone, he thought, and Louis being alone with his thoughts wasn’t the best thing these days.

            “Hey,” the younger fiancé said quietly as he made his way to where Louis was sitting and smoking just a few feet away from the bus.

            “Hey,” Louis said after a quick glance to the other man, putting his cigarette out on the ground and drawing his knees up to his chin.

            “What’s wrong?” Harry asked, sinking onto his butt. Louis stared at the ground, seeming like he hadn’t heard the question, but Harry knew he did, so waited for his response. Finally, the older guy spoke, but Harry quickly decided it was one of the worst things he’d ever heard.

            “I don’t think we should be getting married,” Louis had said.

            “What?!” Harry stammered out after gaping for a good while. He quickly changed his question because he’d heard exactly what Louis had said and wasn’t looking to have it repeated. “Why?!”

            “I’m too screwed up,” Louis said, still refusing to meet Harry’s eyes as he picked at his pants furiously.

            “No you’re not! You’ve got a problem, Lou, and I know that, but…I’m trying to help!”

            “I know you are, Harry,” Louis said genuinely. “And you’re wonderful. Honestly, I mean that. But I’m hopeless.”

            “Don’t say that,” Harry said, voice cracking a bit as tears pricked his eyes. This could not be happening.

            “It’s true, Haz. I’ve tried to help me. You’ve tried. My mum. The boys. I won’t get better, Harry. I can’t. And I’m tired of hurting you.”

            “ _This_ is hurting me!”

            “I know.”

            Louis finally turned his gaze to look into Harry’s tear-filled green eyes, and Harry saw that he was crying as well.

            “This is the last time I’m hurting you, though, Harry.”

            “Louis…”

            Slowly, almost like he was hesitating, Louis leaned over to place a light, barely-there kiss on Harry’s lips.

            “I love you so much, Harry Styles…but I can’t marry you.”

            “Louis!” Harry nearly shrieked, hysteria coating his voice and mind as his (ex?) fiancé got up and walked back to the bus. He wasn’t sure how many times he actually called after the other guy, but eventually realized it was useless and let out a choked sob instead, squeezing his eyes shut and praying to whoever may be listening that it was just another bump in the road and not the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T KILL ME YET!!!!! I know things aren't looking so great right now, and there seem to be more questions than answers, but we still have two more chapters (and maybe an epilogue?) and there will be A LOT being covered in those couple of chapters. 
> 
> Soooo! Who do you guys think is doing it? Nick? Tony? Both? Neither? A split personality of Harry's? A split personality of Louis'? ;) Someone else entirely? 
> 
> <3 you guys
> 
> PS, I hope you don't mind the extra Ziam/Liam's POV. I wanted to change things up a little bit plus add a bit of happiness and fluff, so that happened.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I can give you guys 34983204834093843 reasons as to why this took so long to post, but you won't care about most of them, so I'll just give you the most relevant; I re-wrote it about five million times to try to get it to sound and feel right, and for some reason, I couldn't. However, my friend has threatened an important part of my anatomy if I don't post this by the time she wakes up tomorrow, so here it is. I'm sorry if it sucks :( 
> 
> That probably wasn't a good way to start this chapter but...well...I'm nervous :p

            Needless to say, things were pretty awkward the next day. Louis and Harry barely talked, and they weren’t ignorant to the worried stares the other band members gave them.

            They were staying in another hotel that night and Harry was honestly surprised that Louis didn’t book his own room or shack up with someone else, but then realized that he probably just wasn’t ready to face the rumors if such information were to leak. Still, Harry knew that if they were going to be sharing a bed, they had to be on the same page.

            “Did you mean what you said about the wedding?” Harry asked when Louis had exited the bathroom and sat himself awkwardly on the end of the bed, which Harry was currently sitting on.

“I don’t know,” Louis sighed. “I love you, but I don’t deserve you.”

“How can you say that?” Harry asked, heart shattering a little more than it already had the past few days.

            “Because, Harry, you could literally have _anyone_. You could be with someone much more attractive, much less screwed in the head…You should be with someone who makes you happy, and I don’t.”

            “Yes you do, Lou! I just want _you_ to be happy!”

            “I can’t be happy, Harry!”

            Louis was crying now, again. Harry was pretty sure he’d cried more the past few months than their entire relationship, and Harry hated everyone who made him feel like that, including himself.

            “I can’t be happy because no matter what I do, it’s never good enough!”

            “Good enough for who?”

            “You! Everyone!”

            “Louis, the only person that thinks you’re not good enough is you.”

            “That’s not true, Harry! If I was good enough, you wouldn’t have slept with Nick Grimshaw!”

            Harry squeezed his eyes shut. This. Of course.

            “Louis,” he said softly, opening his eyes after he had taken a few deep breaths. “I told you it had nothing to do with you.”

            “It _always_ has something to do with the other person in the relationship.”

            “Okay, maybe, but there are two people in this relationship, Lou, and maybe things hadn’t been great, even before, but it wasn’t because of _you_ personally.”

            “I want to go to bed.”

            “Louis, stop shutting down whenever we talk about this! I thought we’d moved on, but clearly we haven’t, so just talk to me.”

            “How am I supposed to move on from it?! How am I supposed to be okay with the fact that you want someone else?!”

            “I don’t want anyone else!”

            “I’m going to bed, Harry.”

            “Louis-”

            “GOOD NIGHT!”

            Louis flipped off the only light they still had on; the bedside lamp, and buried himself under the covers. Harry sighed.

            “Louis, please.”

            Nothing.

            “I’m sorry,” the younger man finally whispered after staring into the darkness long enough that Louis may have actually fallen asleep. “I’m really sorry that I did that and hurt you. I’m sorry that I failed to make you see the greatness in yourself, but I love you and I want what’s best for you. Think about what that is, and if it isn’t me, I’ll let you go, even though that’s the last thing I ever want to do.”

            There was still no reply from the other man, so Harry came to the conclusion that he was, in fact, asleep, when a soft, yet high-pitched, choked sob came from the other man. He silenced himself quickly, and Harry bit his lip, lying back slowly and trying to not make a sound himself.

 

            Louis wasn’t beside Harry when he woke, but the curly headed boy didn’t have time to think about what that could possibly mean because he soon realized that he hadn’t woke up on his own accord. His phone was buzzing on the nightstand.

            “‘Lo?” he answered groggily after fumbling around before finally getting the device unlocked.

            “Harry, you need to get down to the buses,” Liam said from the other end of the line.

            “Louis?” Harry asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

            “He’s here, but we have a little situation.”

            “I’m on my way. What happened?”

            He was out of bed, slipping on some jeans he was pretty sure weren’t clean, before the question was even all the way out of his mouth.

            “Um…I guess Louis was having some problems today, and Zayn got upset and went off on Tony because, well, I guess he just needed someone to go off on.”

            “Is _Zayn_ okay?” Harry asked, checking his pocket for the hotel room key before closing the door behind him and heading for the elevators.

            “Yeah, but as they were arguing, Tony accidentally outed Grimmy as the one that’s been harassing Louis.”

            “So Tony _knew_!”

            “Yeah, because he was in on it too.”

            Harry’s head spun. Forget One Direction getting a reality show. They might as well get a soap opera or a murder mystery because he was feeling positively homicidal.

            “What the…what?” seemed to be the only words he could get out. Liam sighed.

            “They’re crazy, the both of them.”

            “But..why?”

            “Well, you and Lou were right about Nick. He’s in love with Louis, or thinks he is, and figured he’d break up with you and then Nick could put the pieces back together. He was the one that started the whole thing, and then Tony found out, and to keep him from doing anything about it, Nick somehow convinced him that it would make a good PR story because apparently people are getting bored that we haven’t had a scandal in a while.”

            “Excuse us for being happy,” Harry mumbled. There were a million things to say, a million flaws with what he just heard, but all he could think about now was getting to Louis.

            “How is he?” the younger singer asked when Liam hadn’t said anything.

            “Um…how close are you?”

 

            A mess, was the answer. Louis was a disaster, caught between wanting to attack Tony, call Nick and give him a piece of his mind or be alone to inevitably take all of the rage and sadness out on himself. If they thought Harry being there would make it better, they were sadly mistaken, and Zayn eventually somehow managed to drag Louis back inside.

            “We didn’t mean to hurt him this bad,” Tony said.

            “How can you even say that?!” Harry spat, feeling his own composure slipping greatly. “ _Of course_ you meant to hurt him!”

            “He wasn’t supposed to go along with it this long! It was supposed to be over soon after it began!”

            “It doesn’t matter! You were emotionally abusing him! He could have died, you know that, right?!”

            “I’m sorry!”

            Tony actually looked on the verge of tears then and Harry…Harry didn’t know what he looked like, but Tony was quickly escorted away to receive his punishment, whatever that may be. As soon as he was out of sight, all of the rage evaporated from Harry’s body. He didn’t forgive him, of course not, and he knew the anger would come back, but at that moment, he was left feeling too weak to hold on to any emotion at all.

            With something that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh, Harry sunk to the ground. Liam sat next to him, not saying a word, but showing that he was there for moral support if he was needed.

            “How did they even do this?” Harry asked.

            “I guess sometimes Tony would have your phone for, like, ‘promotional purposes’ or whatever and send something, but he claims the really nasty ones were from Nick.”

            “But Nick never had my phone.”

            “I know, but there are apps, I guess. Phone spoofing? They just let you change the number you’re sending the message from and that’s that. Tony was explaining it. I don’t even know why these damn things exist. I don’t see how they can do any good and I’m pretty sure it’s not legal, but…”

            Liam’s voice drifted off as a couple of men from their management team walked back towards them. Harry stayed seated while the other stood, feeling a bit light-headed again. The answer to all of this had been so simple and yet the damage it had caused was disastrous and possibly irreversible. Now that they knew who was causing all the trouble, they could put a stop to it, but it wasn’t like Louis could just forget what they’d said. Even though he knew now that it wasn’t Harry, Harry knew that wouldn’t make things much better. It was in his head now, and he believed every word they’d said. Even if, eventually, he could heal his heart from the scarring words, he’d abused his body so greatly and for so long that Harry was afraid of what could happen somewhere down the road. And all of this was caused for _pres_ s and Nick’s crazy plan for love, with a simple phone app and Harry’s own stupidity.

            “Harry?”

            Liam’s voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up to see three pairs of eyes on him.

            “Hm?” Harry asked.

            “You didn’t hear anything that was just said, did you?”

            The outright pity in Liam’s voice made Harry swallow tears he didn’t realize were that close to falling. He shouldn’t be pitying _him._

            “Erm…no,” the younger guy admitted.

            “Tony has been fired,” one of the other management guys told him. “Louis can press charges against him if he wishes, for emotional distress. We won’t fight him on that, as we had no idea what was going on and most definitely wouldn’t have encouraged such extreme measures. Also, although we pray he doesn’t choose this option, all of us have decided it’s only fair to offer Louis a way out of his contract. We realize he has obligations to us and the band, but the top concern for all of us right now is for him to get better.”

            “You mean to like…have him leave the band?” Harry asked, heart pounding painfully. Louis’ health was his number one concern too, of course, but the selfish side of him was trying and failing to imagine touring, recording and doing all of the things that they used to do together, without him.

            “Only if he thinks that is what will be best for him.”

            “I need to get to him,” Harry said. The others nodded in understanding.

            “Just take your time and discuss it with him.”

            Harry stood, surprised to find that his legs didn’t give out underneath him, and Liam walked with him to his and Zayn’s hotel room.

            When they got inside, Louis was sprawled across the bed, asleep, and Zayn was pacing around anxiously. As soon as the door was shut, he made a beeline for the two and Harry expected him to throw himself into Liam, but instead, he was met with an armful of Zayn instead. They didn’t say anything because what could be said? But Harry appreciated the contact nonetheless.

            Soon, Liam took his boyfriend out to the balcony to explain everything that had happened after he’d left, and Harry sat himself gently on the end of the bed, trying not to stare at Louis and wake him up. He began to stir anyway not too much longer anyway and Harry shifted his gaze to the flawless face he loved so much, staring until he was met with blue eyes.

            Slowly, Louis sat up, rubbing furiously at his eyes before sighing.

            “I kind of went bat shit, huh?” he said, trying to keep humor in his voice when they both knew there was nothing funny about this situation at all.

            “I think you had every right to,” Harry said. “Tony has been fired, by the way.”

            Louis nodded, staring off into the distance for a moment before asking, “So…that’s it?”

            “Well, no,” Harry sighed. “You can press charges if you want. It’s totally up to you. And…they also said you can…you can get out of your contract if you want.”

            “Get out of my contract?” Louis repeated, and Harry nodded. “So, like…they want me out of the band?”

            “NO!” Harry said, a little too loudly, eyes wide as he shook his head violently. “They don’t _want_ you to leave, but they realize that you’re not in the best place right now, and they want you to do what’s best for you. No one wants you to leave us, Louis.”

            Louis bit his lip and Harry was extremely worried that he had to think this hard about it. When he finally spoke again, it did nothing to put Harry at ease.

            “I have a lot to think about,” he said, and Harry wanted to argue, but only nodded. Louis clearly didn’t know what was best for him, but Harry didn’t either.

            It was quiet for a long time. From the sliding glass door, Harry could see Liam and Zayn sitting on the balcony, chain smoking their stress away. The silence was just getting awkward when there came a pounding on the door.

            “Who is it?” Harry called wearily.

            “It’s me!” Niall’s voice sounded from the other side, and Louis quickly jumped up from the bed to let him in. As soon as the door was opened, Niall threw his arms around Louis’ neck.

            “Christ, I’m never sleeping in again!” he breathed.

            “I guess you were filled in then?” Louis verified.

            “Yep. What a lot of cunts. And I don’t mean that in a good way.”

            Somehow, Louis actually laughed a little and Niall gave a small smile as he let go of him.

            “We’re going out today, Tommo,” he announced.

            “Going out where?” Louis asked.

            “No idea. We’ll figure it out.”

            That seemed to be a good enough answer for Louis, and he barely said a goodbye to Harry before following Niall out the door.

            And that was all Harry saw of him all day. He planned on staying up until he got back in, no matter how long that took, but he ended up crashing extra early instead. He didn’t sleep well, though, and when he woke up, the spot next to him in bed was unoccupied and cold, and Harry supposed Louis could have just gotten up early, but had the feeling that he had never been to bed at all, at least not with him.

            He didn’t worry about it at first, figuring he crashed with Niall, but when he rolled over to see a note on his nightstand, Louis’ handwriting scrawled across the paper, he figured that wasn’t the case either.

 

            Harry, I flew back home. Well, to Stan’s. Need to think. Need things to be normal. See you soon.

                   -Louis

 

           

            Louis had a good day with Niall, he really did. That guy emitted sunshine, and Louis couldn’t be _totally_ depressed while being dragged around town by that ball of energy, going into various shops and trying on the most ridiculous outfits they could before stopping for lunch (and Louis even managed to eat a little) and then heading to an arcade. Louis honestly didn’t want the day to end; didn’t want to have to go back to reality, but of course it did, and he had to, and that was when everything hit him. His relationship was as good as over. His career was as good as over. Nobody needed him, and he was a lot more trouble than he was worth. Zayn had spent the morning trying to console him through his nervous breakdown when he should have been going out to breakfast and exploring the town with his boyfriend. Liam was noticeably stressed, having to worry not only about whether his boyfriend was eating well, but also stressing over how to help Louis, because Liam liked to help people and sacrificed his own health and happiness to do so, and Louis didn’t deserve that from him. Niall had spent all day entertaining Louis, trying to keep Louis from falling further into his depression and self-hatred, and the older singer was sure he had much better plans for his day than that originally. Then there was Harry. Poor Harry, who, when Louis arrived back in their hotel room, was tossing and turning in bed, every now and then making little whining noises. His skin was pale, forehead creased with worry even when he should have been resting, and Louis had caused that.

            Knowing what he had to do, Louis had jotted a quick note for the sleeping man and then caught a taxi to the airport. He didn’t care how long he had to wait or how much he was over-charged, he just had to get away. He needed to get back to a place where his disorder and the hurt couldn’t hurt him as bad; somewhere safe.

            When he finally arrived at Stan’s, he was crying. He wasn’t sure when he’d started, but he wasn’t too concerned with it. Unlike his band mates, who had to be nice and put up with him, Stan didn’t owe him anything. They’d been best friends since they were little and had been around for each other’s worst and most awkward stages, as well as their best, and they could always rely on each other to be brutally honest and, in result, just what they needed. Stan knew about the disorder-of course he did-but he treated Louis no differently. He didn’t act like there was something wrong with him or like he was stupid. Of course, he didn’t encourage those bad habits either, but something about their odd, wonderful relationship could often make Louis forget that there actually was something wrong with him and nothing seemed as bad when they were together.

            It didn’t occur to the singer until he was on his friend’s doorstep that he didn’t call, text or give any kind of heads up that he would be arriving, but he rang the doorbell anyway, hoping his friend would be home and not in too deep of a sleep, despite the fact that it was almost two in the morning.

            He was in luck. The door opened much quicker than Louis expected and he was pulled in immediately by a pair of strong arms and led to the kitchen, where he was made tea in silence. In fact, neither of the boys said a word until the cup was placed in front of Louis and the other guy plopped down in his seat.

            “Alright,” he said, sitting up straight and folding his hands together as he gave his best friend his undivided attention. “One…two…three…go.”

            Louis told him everything. He told him about Harry and Nick, and the insecurity it brought back up, Nick claiming to have feelings for him, Tony and Nick’s great idea for “press” and how he thought it was Harry for a long time, how he told himself every day during that time that leaving him would be the best thing, but how he also couldn’t imagine life without him and how he hated himself a lot more than he hated Harry because he believed all the words were true. He told him how he may get out of his contract so he won’t hold the boys back and, most painfully, how he may have broken up with Harry right before everything was revealed; that he doesn’t know if he deserves him back or not.

            Stan was silent for a little while once Louis finished, but the singer didn’t blame him. It was a lot to absorb, and Louis was aware that he was talking fast and with lots of stuttering and cracks in his voice.

            “Wow,” Stand said finally.

            “Yeah,” Louis sighed.

            “Finish your tea,” Stan instructed as he stood up, “and then meet me out back.”

            “For what?” Louis asked, frowning.

            “Because we’re playing football.”

 

            Louis really didn’t understand what Stan’s plan was, but he chugged his drink and met him out back anyway.

            “Come on, Tommo!” Stan shouted as Louis kicked the ball towards the goal half-heartedly. “I know you have more anger in you than that!”

            “Sorry that I’m a little distracted right now,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes.

            “No apologies necessary. Just kick the ball like you mean it!”                       

            “Why are we doing this?” Louis asked, stopping to put a hand on his hip and stare his friend down.

            “Because,” Stan said, dragging out the word as he took a couple steps towards his friend, “that ball isn’t just any ball.”

            “Oh?” Louis asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Nope. It’s Nick’s head.”

            “What?!” Louis asking through a laugh.

            “Yep. It’s Nick’s head. And Tony’s. And even Harry’s, maybe. And that shit disorder that’s killing you. I _know_ you’re hurt and angry, Louis, but you need to stop taking it out on yourself.”

            “I didn’t come here for a therapy session, Stanley,” Louis pointed out.

            “I beg to differ. And since I love you so much, I won’t charge anything this time. Now I’m going to get us some waters. Have fun with the blood of your enemies.”

            Louis rolled his eyes again as he watched his friend retreat back inside, but he gave the ball another kick and put a little more energy behind it that time. This was ridiculous, he told himself. The ball wasn’t anything but a ball. There was no way that taking his rage and pain out on an inanimate object could make him feel any better.

            Except, as he continued to kick and chase after it, it did make him feel better, a little. By the end, he was kicking it so hard his foot hurt, but that didn’t matter. With the first goal, he defeated Nick and his cruel words. With the second, he could start to forget that Tony would stoop so low as to use his happiness and life for money. When the ball hit the net for the third time, he started to think that maybe Harry hadn’t been unfaithful because of something _he_ was lacking, but due to some demon the other guy was battling himself. After the fourth goal, he told anorexia that he was done with it and with the fourth, told bulimia the same thing too.

            Louis wasn’t naïve enough to think all of his problems were solved just like that. He felt good-great, even-as he collapsed to the cold ground, out of energy and breath, but he knew it was only temporary. There was no way he could get over the things that had been done to him just like that, and the eating disorders weren’t going to disappear over night, but it felt like the beginning of something. If he could feel good now, then maybe there was hope for the future too.

            “Do I need to call an ambulance?”

            Louis hadn’t realized his eyes had closed and when he opened them to come face-to-face with Stan’s concerned expression, he smiled and shook his head. Stan offered a hand and Louis took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. The world spun and he held onto his friend tightly, but he still felt elated. For a little while, he was free.

            Stan took him inside and made him sit on the couch while he fixed him a piece of peanut butter toast. Louis ate it quickly when it was handed to him and then briefly thought about purging, but he was too tired and besides, he deserved at least one night away from that stuff, so he took a super quick shower and then collapsed into Stan’s bed, falling asleep in less than thirty seconds.

            Louis felt a little less care-free when he woke later that morning, but decided it was too early to think or feel much of anything (despite the fact that it was almost noon) and he made his way out of the room to find company.

            When he entered the kitchen, the last room he had yet to check, Louis stopped in his tracks. Someone was waiting for him at the kitchen table, but it wasn’t Stan.

            “Harry,” Louis breathed. The younger guy hadn’t even heard him enter the room, but at the sound of his voice, his head shot up and he started to stand. Before he could, though, Louis collapsed down onto his lap, burying his face into the other’s neck. He felt like he should be crying, but was either too dried up or still too tired. Maybe both. Without a word, Harry pulled Louis even closer to him, holding onto his back like he would run away again if he let go. For a while, neither knew how long exactly, they just sat there like that, knowing there was a lot to say but not wanting to face any of it.

            Finally, after loosening his grip on Louis just a bit and placing a kiss on the top of his head Harry asked quietly, “Will you eat for me?”

            After a moment’s hesitation, Louis nodded.

 

            Soon after breakfast, the two boys found themselves on a plane back to the others.

            “So…did you have time to think?” Harry asked, wincing like he regretted the words as soon as they were out his mouth.

            “I did, but I still don’t know,” Louis admitted. “You know I love you guys and I love what I do, but sometimes…a lot of the time…I feel like you guys would be better off without me.”

            “But we wouldn’t at all. We love you and we need you, babe. Nothing would be the same without you.”

            “Do you think that, or all of the boys?”

            “All of us.”

            “Really?”

            “Yes, of course. We all need each other, every single one of us, including you.”

            Louis bit his lip, and Harry could see the indecision in his eyes. He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until Louis said, “Fine, I’ll stay,” and he let it out in a slow stream. He almost asked Louis if he was sure but didn’t want to give him the chance to change his mind. He felt guilty and selfish, unsure if Louis was doing what he actually wanted or just what Harry wanted, but if Harry was losing Louis as a fiancé, which he was aware was still a possibility, he couldn’t lose him as a friend; a band mate too. He needed Louis like he was a vital organ, and didn’t feel as if that was an exaggeration.

            “Do you know if you’re pressing charges?” Harry asked after a minute of silence had passed. Louis shook his head.

            “Not pressing charges. I want a restraining order, but that’s it. This whole thing is kind of really humiliating, you know? And I don’t want to drag it out any longer than it has to go on.”

            “A restraining order, yeah. Yeah, yeah, we can do that.”

            With a small smile and a half nod, Louis rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, looking as if all of the energy had suddenly been drained from him. Harry knew there was still a lot to talk about, but now was not the time or place.

 

            As soon as they arrived back at the new hotel they were crashing at for the night, Louis was met with three bodies throwing themselves on him, all telling him how much they loved and missed him. Louis pointed out that it had only been one night, but Harry could tell the gestures got to him a little, and soon took him to their room for a bit of peace.

            Peace was something he’d planned to give Louis for the rest of the night, and so they laid on the very edge of their sides of the bed, watching TV and trying to ignore the tension in the room, when Harry’s phone rang. The name that flashed on the screen sparked anger in him and he went to the patio to answer it, closing the door a little too loudly behind him.

            “Never call me again,” he spoke into the phone and the person on the other end had the audacity to laugh.

            “Hello to you. too. Thanks for all of the concern while I was in the hospital, by the way.”

            “Well, Nick, I can honestly say that I didn’t really care what happened to you.”

            “Now that’s not very nice.”

            “Yes, because you’re the exact picture of a good person. Lou’s getting a restraining order on you and I will too if you ever speak to me again.”

            “I love him, Harry.’

            “What?”

            “I love Louis, and I…I may not have gone about everything the right way, but neither did you.”

            “You don’t love him. You don’t destroy someone you love.”

            “Oh yeah? You did.”

            “What are you talking about?”

            Harry’s heart was pounding so hard he was actually a little dizzy and he took a seat on one of the chair as his fist clenched in his lap.

            “You cheated on him. You let the eating disorder take control of him. He clearly didn’t feel like you were someone he could go to. In fact, he found you capable of abusing him, emotionally, at least, and so maybe Louis deserves better than me, but he deserves better than you too.”

            Harry tried to think of a comeback for that, but he couldn’t, because the words felt true.

            “Leave us alone,” he said weakly into the phone before hanging up. He took a few moments to breathe, feeling as if he might faint if he didn’t, and then went back inside. Louis had turned the TV off and was sitting with his knees up to his chin, tears running down his face.

            “Lou, what-” Harry started, but Louis cut him off.

            “Was that Nick?”

            “Yes…”

            “Do you want him?”

            The younger singer’s mouth dropped open at that and he shook his head, spluttering out incoherent words before he could get an actual sentence out.

            “N-no! Louis, why would you think that?!”

            “Because you _did_ want him, at least for one night, and I don’t know, maybe it’s him you’re in love with and…not me.”

            “Not true,” Harry said, sitting on the bed, close to Louis but not touching him. “I’ve never wanted Nick. Not even that night. It’s only you. It will always be only you.”

            “But then…why did you…?”

            “Because I’m an idiot. Because I went to the party even though I didn’t want to, got smashed and wanted to forget what was going on inside of me for just a little while.”

            “What was going on inside of you?”

            “Well…,” Harry sighed. “I was scared, Lou. We were supposed to get married, and that’s honestly all I’d ever wanted since I was sixteen, but I was afraid that maybe I wanted it a little more than you did.”

            “Why would you think that?” Louis asked with a deep frown that Harry instantly tried to smooth away with his fingertips.

            “Because I’m more like you than you think, Louis. I can get insecure too. You’re beautiful and all you have to do is look at a guy and he’s falling head over heels for you. You might think you don’t deserve me, and you’re right, but only because you could do so much better.”

            Louis shook his head, taking Harry’s hand that was still cupping his chin in his own.

            “No I couldn’t.”

            “You’ll probably always think that, Lou, and I’ll always think you’re wrong. But that’s not the point. The point is that I had you-all of you-and I messed that up. I can never say how sorry I am and I know I can never make it better but, God, I want to.”

            “I just need time, Haz,” Louis said, dropping the boy’s hand and hugging his knees again.

            “Time away from me?”

            “I don’t know.”

            A few painful moments passed; moments Harry felt were crucial to saving their relationship, but he couldn’t think of what to say. It was only when Louis laid down and rolled onto his side, facing away from Harry, that he blurted,

            “How about therapy?”

            “I don’t need therapy,” Louis snapped, the voice of his ex-step father ringing in his head, saying,

            _“He doesn’t need to talk to someone, Jay. He needs to stop being a damn idiot.”_

“Not just you,” Harry said. “Me too. Us. Like…couple’s therapy. Like, Liam said he and Zayn go to sessions sometimes with the same lady that helps with his eating disorder, and it really helps with communication and understanding each other and stuff…”

            Harry let himself trail off, expecting to be shot down immediately, but after a few terrifying moments of saying nothing, Louis finally gave in.

            “We can give it a try. No promises or anything.”

            Still, it felt like a huge weight had lifted off of Harry. Louis was willing to work on them, and maybe, in the process, he would learn to work on himself a little too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so one chapter left! (And probably an epilogue?) Loose ends will be tied up and all that business. This chapter originally had more going on in it, but when I realized this part alone was turning into a novel, I cut some things out. 
> 
> Also, phone spoofing is a real thing. I promise I didn't make it up. I did my research ;) Aaaand I'm rambling because I am really nervous about posting this for some reason but I just wanted to say thank you again to everyone who has supported me. Really, I am TERRIBLE at finishing things, but you kept me going so thanks :)


	11. Chapter 11

            “Harry and Louis?”

            At the sound of their names, the boys stood, walking side-by-side to meet the middle-aged woman who had called them forward. She gave a bright smile, extending her hand first to Harry and then Louis as she introduced herself.

            “My name is Dr. Madison. Please come in. Zayn and Liam have told me so much about you two!”

            “That’s unnerving,” Louis commented as they followed Dr. Madison into her office. She gave a small, cheery laugh.

            “Good things, I assure you. Have a seat on the couch, please.”

            The guys obeyed and after taking her own seat, the psychologist gave them a smile. “You two are sitting close enough that I’m only going to assume you’re not totally repulsed by each other. This is good.”

            “He’s pretty repulsive, but he’s cute, so I put up with it,” Louis said, and Harry rolled his eyes, but it was all in good humor.

            “Ah, the blessing of good looks, Dr. Madison joked right along with them and Harry decided he liked her already. “In a little bit, I’m going to have both of you fill out a little questionnaire, but I’d like to talk a little first.”

            The couple nodded, and Harry sensed Louis tense a little beside him. He was fine as long as he could make jokes and keep his guard up, but getting him to talk about his thoughts and feelings with a stranger present was probably not going to be easy.

            “How long have you two been together?” Dr. Madison asked.

            “Three-and-a-half years,” Harry answered.

            “Wow! So you got together at a pretty young age then?”

            “Yeah. Pretty young,” Harry agreed with a smile.

            “And you two are engaged, correct?”

            There were a few moments of awkward silence in which Louis got very distracted by his fingernails and Harry cleared his throat a couple of times before speaking.

            “Um….we don’t know, really.”

            “You don’t know?”

            “Like, we were, but …a lot of things have happened and we’re trying to decide if a wedding is a good idea for us right now.”

            “What kind of things?” Dr. Madison asked, and after taking a deep breath, Harry told her.

            “I’m very sorry that happened to you,” she told Louis sincerely. “Both of you,” she added then, looking at Harry. “But, Louis, if you thought Harry was doing those things to you, why didn’t you leave, or at least confront him earlier?”

            “I love him,” Louis answered like it was the simplest thing in the world. “He deserves everything he wants, and I wanted to be that for him.”

            “I understand,” the doctor said, and it sounded like she really did. “But you are worth more than that and you never have to put up with that from _anybody_ , okay?”

Louis nodded, still refusing to look up, and Harry swallowed.

            “Now, Harry, how did you feel when you found out what had been going on?”

            “Awful, of course. I was furious that someone would do that to him and I also felt so guilty.”

            “You felt guilty?”

            “Yeah. I knew there was something going on with him and I tried to help, but I didn’t know how. And then I felt terrible that he thought I was capable of saying those things to him, or even thinking them.”

            “But Harry, that wasn’t because of you,” Louis spoke, finally turning his gaze to the other boy’s face. “I _know_ that you would never do that, okay? I really do. I was just in a really bad place then.”

            “I know you were,” Harry said. “But I’m supposed to be your support system and I was the cause of your problems.”

            “You weren’t.”

            “Things got worse after the texts, and I realize that, but that’s not what set it off. When you first relapsed it was…it was right after that night.”

            Louis bit his lip then, looking down again, as Dr. Madison looked back and forth between the two of them.

            “This is good communication, boys, it is, but if you don’t mind, what happened on ‘that night’?”

            And so Harry told her the only part of the story he hadn’t told her before; the night of the party when Louis had been sick at home and Harry had been off doing things he should never have been doing with someone else. He expected the woman to hate him after that. He fully anticipated a scene in which she told Louis that he deserved better and that he should run as fast as he could. But she didn’t. When he’d finished his story, Dr. Madison nodded and said, “It sounds like self-esteem is an issue for the both of you. I sincerely believe that you two want what’s best for each other and you don’t feel adequate enough, but instead of portraying that through infidelity and self-abuse, how about we work on ways that will help you two become your best selves?”

            “I thought that’s what I was doing,” Louis said quietly.

            “Your best self wouldn’t let you do that to yourself. Improving yourself has nothing to do with changing your outward appearance. It’s about allowing yourself to be happy, healthy and available to those who need and love you.”

            Louis seemed legitimately interested in the rest of the session, and even Harry learned a lot. He was aware that one session wouldn’t be enough to fix all of their problems, but he was optimistic that with a little bit of time, things could go back to how they were before.

            “Louis, do you mind if I talk to you in private for a moment?” Dr. Madison asked at the end of the session when the boys stood to leave. “I promise it won’t take long.”

            “Okay,” he said hesitantly after a moment, and Harry gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

            “I’ll be waiting in the car, okay?”

            Louis nodded and Harry left the two of them alone. Dr. Madison gave him a friendly smile.

            “First off, I wanted to say that I am so proud of you for agreeing to therapy of any kind and for cooperating so well today. I know it had to be hard for you.”

            “I don’t want to lose him,” Louis admitted.

            “I know you don’t, and I also know that he doesn’t want to lose you. I am so happy both of you have decided to continue your counseling, and I do think it will be good for your relationship.”

            Louis nodded, wondering where she was going with this, but he didn’t have to wonder long.

            “However, I would like to give you some individual sessions as well. I can’t give you and your eating disorder the attention it deserves during couples’ counseling.”

            “Um…,” Louis stalled, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet. He didn’t know why it was even a debate for him. He knew he needed help and he wanted it. He wanted to mend his relationship with Harry, but he also wanted to mend himself. He also knew that going to therapy was nothing to be ashamed of, but yet, he was. Maybe he wasn’t actually ‘sick.’ Maybe he _was_ just being stupid.

            “You don’t have to answer me now.” Dr. Madison’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Just think about it. It doesn’t even have to be with me. I just want you to be happy, Louis. You deserve to be happy.”

            Louis nodded, clearing his throat before speaking, just in case.

            “Thank you. I...um…I’ll definitely think about it.”

            “Terrific,” the woman said with a smile, shaking Louis’ hand for the second time since the beginning of their session. “Once again, it was a pleasure meeting you both.”

            “Yeah, you too…Thanks.”

 

            “Everything okay?” Harry asked when Louis climbed into the passenger side seat.

            “Yeah,” the older man replied. “Everything’s fine.”

            Harry didn’t press more and Louis didn’t provide any more information. He had a decision to make and he had to make it by himself.

            His mind was made up by the time they reached their home. While Harry plopped on the couch to call his mom, Louis went upstairs to call Dr. Madison’s office. The lady who answered the phone was nice and she squeezed Louis in for a session in just a couple days’ time.

 

            “Sorry, Z. Dr. Madison had a cancelation from the bloke she was supposed to see right after me, so she let our session go over a little bit.”

            “‘S okay,” Zayn said with a little smile towards his friend as he slid his phone into his pocket and stubbed out the cigarette he’d been smoking. “How’d it go?”

            “Alright,” Louis said with a shrug. It was only his third private session with Dr. Madison and he _was_ starting to feel better, but he knew he had a long way to go. While he was seeing the woman twice a week, Zayn only had to see her twice a month by that point, and Louis tried not to compare the two of them, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

            “It gets easier,” Zayn promised.

            “I know it will,” Louis said honestly. “So what are we doing today?”

            That day just so happened to be one of the days Zayn had had an appointment with their therapist, and he was scheduled right before Louis, so the two carpooled, deciding that they would hang out afterwards and just try to act like everything was normal because they would be again, one day.

            “Weeeell…,” Zayn said with a slightly nervous sound to his voice. “I have to eat. I overslept and skipped breakfast, so I got doctor’s orders to eat as soon as I got out of there.”

            “Yeah, that’s fine,” Louis said. “What do you want?”

            “I don’t really care. What I _want_ is for us both to grab something, maybe with the rest of the boys? You know, just kind of all chill together…”

            “Okay, you sap,” Louis teased, but he was smiling. “Where are we meeting them?”

 

            Harry wasn’t sure what to expect when he arrived at the pizza parlor where he was meeting the guys for lunch. Zayn had been the one to text him, so for all he knew, he could have dragged Louis there against his will and he could be met with an extremely grumpy fiancé-because yes, the two were still getting married, though the occasion was delayed a little bit-but when he walked in, he was met with the sound of Louis’ loud laughter, and a smile spread to his face instantly. He hadn’t heard him laugh like that for a while.

            “Hey, love,” Louis greeted as Harry took the chair beside him.

            “Hi,” Harry said, gladly accepting the kiss Louis placed on his lips. They all talked and joked, both while they waited for the pizza and while they ate. Louis hesitated just a bit before taking his first bite, and then again before grabbing his second slice, but it was progress. Harry knew they still had a long road ahead of them, but thought that, finally, he was beginning to see their true destination at the end of this twisted, crazy detour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this doesn't feel quite finished yet, so there will be an epilogue, which will probably be posted tomorrow :)


	12. Epilogue

            Harry tried not to be upset. Things were going well, they really were, and he was grateful. He shouldn’t be focusing on what the day was supposed to be. He was still going to marry the only person he’d ever want to spend his life with. He just didn’t know when.

            The day was beautiful too. It was hot, but there was just enough of a breeze to keep it from being miserable, perfect for the beach wedding he and Louis had planned. The sky was clear and blue; no rain was in the forecast at all. But the wedding wasn’t today, and Harry thought he might feel a bit better if they had another date picked out, but they didn’t. Dr. Madison, the therapist who had been counseling them for the past couple of months, suggested that they until further in Louis’ recovery because he had been improving, quite a bit, actually, but his emotions were still on edge; his self-esteem climbing up from underground, but still low, and a wedding wouldn’t fix that.

            Harry understood, of course, and he even agreed, but he couldn’t help that he was just a little bitter at the universe.

            The positive thing about that day, though, was that Harry got out of the studio early and he and Louis planned to spend the rest of the day together. He didn’t know what they were doing, but that didn’t matter. Harry just wanted to be with him.

            When he walked into the house, he was greeted by the smell of food and his eyes bulged out just a little.

            “Lou?” he called.

            “Yeah?” the older man asked, stepping out of the bathroom as he dried his hands off on a towel. At first, a jolt of panic coursed through Harry, but he quickly pushed it away. Louis was allowed to use the bathroom, for Christ’s sake. Besides, even though he didn’t always eat quite enough to be considered normal just yet, what he did eat stayed in his system.

            “Did you cook?” Harry asked, and Louis gave a slight laugh.

            “No, of course not. I picked up some things from that Italian place a few blocks away.”

            Harry smiled. _That_ was the Louis he knew.

            “Well, it smells delicious.”

            “Good. You ready to eat then?”

            “Definitely.”

            Louis threw the hand towel back into the bathroom and then walked ahead of Harry into the kitchen.

            “Sit,” he ordered, nodding to the dining area.

            “We’re eating out there?” Harry asked, eyebrow raised. Typically, they only used that room for special occasions, usually including company.

            “Yes. With candles. Today is kind of a big deal.”

            “I see,” Harry said, even though he didn’t at all.

            “Now go sit! How am I supposed to be romantic if you’re trying to be Mr. Independent?!”

            “Okay, okay. I’ll light the candles, though. We both know what happened last time you attempted that task.”

            Louis stuck his tongue out and Harry returned the expression, but then they both smiled at each other before going their separate ways; Louis to dish out the food and pour the wine and Harry to dim the lights and light the candles.

            As the two ate, they made small talk, mostly about Harry’s day in the studio and what they were most excited about for the new album. Louis was doing real good eating that day, Harry noted, a swelling of pride rising in his chest.

            “You’re so gorgeous,” he commented during one of their brief moments of silence. Louis’ eyes had been trained on his food, fork half way to his mouth, the kind light of the candles extenuating his beauty even more than normal, but once the words were out of Harry’s mouth, Louis paused, eyes flickering to his fiancé before setting down his fork.

            “I’m full,” he announced, and an unpleasant feeling suddenly twisted in Harry’s gut.

            “No, Louis, what-”

            “I want dessert,” he said instead, a glint in his eye that Harry caught right before the man turned and headed upstairs. Harry smiled, standing to follow.

            Louis undressed himself, which was enough to make Harry almost tear up with happiness. They had been intimate on a few occasions recently, but Louis would only let himself be undressed reluctantly, and his shirt stayed on half of the time. This, now…this was major progress, and Harry decided to show him how proud he really was of him.

            “I love you,” Harry said once they were done and Louis had tucked himself into his side.

            “I love you too,” Louis said, turning his head up to take in the younger boy’s face. “Harry…”

            “Hm?”

            “Marry me?”

            “Of course,” the younger singer said with a smile down at the other. “Just say when, baby.”

            Louis smiled, leaning up on one arm to kiss Harry before slipping out of bed and getting dressed.

            “What’s happening?” Harry asked, feeling suddenly cold.

            “I want to go to the beach,” Louis said. “Come to the beach with me?”

            “Of course.”

 

            It was bittersweet for Harry, walking along the beach, holding hands, knowing that they were supposed to have been already wed at this very location. It stung even more when he saw a wedding arch and balloons off in the distance. He held in a sigh and was about to look away when a familiar face off in the distance stopped him.

            “Is that…is that Liam?”

            “Huh,” Louis said, squinting off towards the wedding with a small frown on his face. “Sure looks like it.”

            “And…Zayn?”

            “Unless Liam would let someone else suck his face off, yes, I’m going to assume that’s Zayn.”

            “…And your mum?”

            “Would you look at that?!”

            “…And _my_ mum?”

            “Huh. Maybe we should go see what’s going on.”

            “Louis, do you know something I don’t know?”

            “Why ever would you think that?”

            But Louis’ frown had turned to a smirk and he had a strange twinkle in his eye.

            “Lou…”

            “Come on.”

            Grabbing the younger man’s hand, Louis led him off towards their family and friends. As they were let through by the mass of security guarding the place, the group-which also included Niall as well as all of the boys’ families and various friends, cheered.

            “ _So_ glad you could make it to the occasion!” Niall announced joyfully.

            “Without us, there would be no occasion,” Louis pointed out, accepting an armful of his little sister, who didn’t feel nearly as heavy as last time she threw herself at him.

            “Um…what _is_ the occasion?” Harry asked.

            “We’re getting married, of course,” Louis said like it was obvious. Well, it did sure look like a wedding, but it just couldn’t be true.

            “Babe…you _are_ aware we decided to reschedule?” Harry asked, looking worriedly at his fiancé. He’d heard memory loss could be a side effect of eating disorders.

            “Yes, but I changed my mind about that,” Louis said with a shrug.

            Still, Harry stared. He wanted this to be happening so, so bad, but he didn’t know how it would be. Briefly, he wondered if he was asleep and dreaming.

            “Look, Haz,” Louis began, voice a little softer. “I know we were going to wait, but why? One of the things I’ve had to learn is to never expect perfection from myself or anyone and anything else. But you and me…we’re damn close. I just want to marry you. I want to continue to heal, and I want us to continue to heal, but I want to do it as husbands.”

            As the reality started to sink in that, oh, maybe this _was_ happening, a huge grin spread across Harry’s face.

            “But, Lou, we told the justice of the peace we were changing the date. There’s no DJ, there’s no cake…”

            “Payno and Malik are going to DJ!” Louis exclaimed happily. “Your sister took care of the cake and our dear Niall has gotten certified to wed us.”

            “What?!” Harry asked, a kind of manic laugh coming from his throat.

            “It’s true,” Niall admitted.

            “But when…how…?”

            “You have so many questions!” Louis said in exasperation as he set his fidgeting sister back on the ground. “Now are you going to marry me tonight or what?”

            “Yes,” Harry breathed, grin becoming impossibly wider. “Yes, we’re getting married. We’re getting married right now.”

            Louis smiled, but his eyes quickly widened in shock as Harry pulled him forward and planted a big, sloppy kiss on his lips.

            “HEY!” Niall squawked. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KISS UNTIL AFTER THE ‘I DOS!’”

            “Lou, come with me,” Liam instructed. “Harry, go with Zayn. You can’t get married in those outfits.”

            “I don’t have anything else,” Harry said.

            “I got your suit, of course,” Zayn told him.

            “And Louis,” Liam’s mom, Karen, spoke, “your alterations came along perfectly. Your tux will look absolutely lovely on you. Let me go grab it from the car.”

            “Great! Thank you so much, Karen!”

            “Don’t forget Harry’s too,” Liam called after her.

            “We’re getting married,” Harry said, looking at Louis with wide eyes.

            “We are,” the older guy agreed.

            “We’re getting married tonight.”

            Louis nodded, smiling, and if there weren’t so many people around, Harry probably would have burst into tears. Happy tears, though, which would be a nice change.

            While they waited on Karen to arrive back with their suits, their own moms came to give them both big hugs, and they did have tears in their eyes.

            “I’m so proud of you, Louis,” Harry’s mom said before Louis’ even had a chance. “And there’s no one else in the entire world I would want marrying my son.”

            “And the same goes for me, of course,” Jay spoke, brushing a stray piece of hair from Harry’s forehead.

            “You two are so embarrassing,” Louis commented, but he pulled all three of the others into a hug anyway.

 

            Karen was right. Louis’ suit fit him perfectly. He had first tried it back on a couple weeks ago, and as he figured, it was slightly big on him in certain areas. Liam said that was no trouble at all and took the tux with him when he went to visit his family, saying his mom could do the alterations if he gave her Louis’ new measurements. Louis had let Zayn measure him, and he was grateful that the guy hadn’t read the numbers out loud. He knew he looked better, healthier, but he also knew that his twisted mind would take whatever number had been read to him and blow it up to make him feel disgusting and ashamed.

            “What if I gain a little weight between now and then?” he’d asked, distressed.

            “Then that’s okay,” Zayn had said. “This isn’t like your jeggings. There will be some wiggle room.”

            And so Louis had tried not to freak out over it, and he did a fairly good job if he said so himself.

            “You look hot,” Liam commented as he licked his finger and ran it across an area of Louis’ hair.

            “Um…why did you just bathe me in your saliva?” Louis questioned.

            “Because this piece of hair is being uncooperative! Seriously, Lou, what did you and Harry do before you came here?!”

            Louis raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth turning up a bit, and Liam’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink.           

            “Oh.”

            Once he had more of Liam’s DNA in his hair than he liked to think about, Louis was finally ready.

            “Are you nervous?” his band mate asked. Louis shook his head. The past few months had been hard, but this…this was easy. He’d imagined himself saying ‘I do’ to Harry so many times that it felt like they were already married, really. Nothing was really going to change because of a signed piece of paper.

 

            “Ladies and gentleman!” Niall announced grandly. Harry snorted while Louis muttered something under his breath. “We are gathered here today to join these two precious souls in marriage!”

            This was ridiculous, Harry decided. Absolutely ridiculous. But he also wouldn’t have it any other way.

            “To be quite honest, I’ve forgotten all of my lines, so let’s skip to the vows, yeah?” Niall continued after a long moment of hesitation.

            “Thank god,” Louis said and everyone except Niall laughed.

            “Harry…say your vows,” the blonde stated and Harry started.

            “Oh. Um…”

            He paused, letting his thoughts organize themselves, and then smiled and continued.

            “Louis, I vow to always be the best friend and husband I can be…to love you and cherish you every single second of every single day and to care for you, whether sick or healthy. I vow to always, _always_ remain faithful to you and our glorious, wonderful marriage and to love you until the day I die. And then in the afterlife as well.”

            Louis smiled at Harry, fidgeting a little when Niall turned expectantly towards him.

            “Um…same,” he said, and chuckles came from the audience as Harry smiled adoringly at his almost-husband.

            “That’s not romantic at all, Tommo!” Niall reprimanded.

            “I know, I know. Okay. I do vow those things though, Harry, because I love you so much. Sometimes you’re the only thing that gets me out of bed in the mornings, even though those are the mornings you would probably rather I stayed in. You’ve learned how to bring out the best in me and, to be honest, I didn’t know there was that much good in me at all. I am so lucky and happy and I just…I love you. I can’t wait to be your husband.”

            Harry was aware that there weren’t many dry eyes in the area at that moment, and he was amazed that he was able to stay so composed.

            “I love you too,” he said back, and a few beats of silence passed before Niall choked,

            “Liam. The rings.”

            Liam stepped forward, handing out the rings that Louis and Harry had picked out so long ago, and Harry smiled at the way the other guy’s felt in his palm, imagining how it would feel the first time he held Louis’ hand with it on.

            “Harry Edward Styles,” Niall continued, voice much stronger than just a moment ago, after the boys had their rings in place and had taken a few seconds to admire them.

            “Yes?” Harry urged.

            “Do you take Louis William Tomlinson do be your lawfully wedded spouse?”

            “I do.”

            “And Louis, do you take Harry to be your lawfully wedded hubby?”

            “I do.”

            “Congratulations! You’re married! Now KISS!”

            And they did, Louis shrieking a bit as Harry dipped him.

            “I wasn’t going to let you fall,” Harry said with a smile as he looked down at his groom’s face. “I would never let you fall.”

            Louis smiled as Harry set him up right again. The taller slipped his hand into the smaller one and then turned sheepishly to Niall.     

“I know this is the part where we skip off and people throw rice at us, but where do we go?”

“There’s a limo waiting to take you to the reception. One of the lovely security guards down there will escort you,” he replied and Harry nodded. Squeezing Louis’ hand just a bit tighter-and smiling at the cool medal that pressed against his skin-, he led his husband away. Everyone cheered, of course, but instead of throwing rice, they threw confetti and glitter. Louis legitimately giggled and Harry swore he almost passed out with elation for a moment.

            The newlyweds were only a few feet away from the last row of guests when a loud _crack_ rang through the air and they snapped back around. Fireworks were going off in the distance; beautiful fireworks, and by the look on Louis’ face, Harry guessed he was just as surprised as him.

            “I’m a genius, I know!” Harry’s sister called out and the boys flashed a quick smile at her before looking back to the sky, Harry pulling Louis into his arms.

 

            The reception was flawless. Cake was the only food served, but it was delicious, and Harry thought at first that he got lucky and was going to get away from Louis smashing any in his face, only to be taken off guard later when he’d turned back to his husband after a conversation with his mom.

            Liam and Zayn were excellent DJs with an excellent playlist and they didn’t abandon their position all night until Niall insisted on taking over so those two lovebirds could dance as well. Everyone was active and happy, and the party went on much longer than anyone expected. Afterwards, once the boys said goodbye to their families and promised to call in the morning, the band members went back to the beach. They were exhausted, but not quite ready for the night to end, and they were silent as they sat in a circle around the campfire Liam had built, at least at first. Niall was the one to eventually break that silence.

            “I think I have a promising career in marrying people waiting for me,” he mused.

            “I think you do,” Louis agreed.

            “You two better hire me when you decide to tie the knot,” Niall said, kicking Zayn lightly and nodding at Liam. The two just laughed.

            “I don’t think anything could top tonight,” Zayn said and then moved his gaze to Harry. “How does it feel to be Harry Tomlinson?”

            “Amazing,” Harry said, smile threatening to crack his face. “Probably just as good as it will feel to be Zayn Payne.”

            “Zayn Payne,” Niall repeated with a cackle.

            “Actually,” Liam spoke, “I think it’s going to be Zayn and Liam Malik.”

            “Seriously?” Louis questioned.

            “Are you insinuating that I’m the woman in this relationship and so I must be the one to take his last name?” Zayn asked with a mock glare.

            “Well, I didn’t want to say anything, but…”

            Louis ducked as a tie was thrown at his head (rather poorly) and Harry quickly shielded the smaller guy with his own body.

            “Hey, don’t throw things at my husband!” he scolded.                       

            “Soooorry, Tommos,” Zayn said, addressing both of them, and Niall let out a sound that wasn’t quite manly.

            “Awww, I love you guys!” he exclaimed, standing and tugging on Liam and Zayn until they stood and followed him to Louis and Harry. Niall then pulled them into a hug-all four of them-and though it wasn’t the most comfortable position, they stayed like that for a good while because _this_ was normal, and no matter what obstacles may be thrown at them in life, they would always have each other to put them back together and make them whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can definitely say that's the fastest I've ever completed something. Thank you once again for all of the support :) I know this got crazy at times, so for those of you who stuck with me through the whole thing...I love you. ;)


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